Previous Encounters
by Tiamat1972
Summary: A bunch of short fics exploring the origins of the characters in my Encounters stories. Chapter 17 - Stuck - Aegis gets stuck and Prowl helps him out. Prowl/OC
1. 47: Kill

**DISCLAIMERS:** I don't own Transformers. They just came over from Hasbro to visit and be general pains-in-the-aft. All the humans in the story are mine, as are Steelshot and Sola. Rating is T for now, may go up at anytime.

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: **These stories are character sketches I'm writing to get a feel for some of the NPCs in a Mechamorphosis game I'm creating. I started this to give myself some back-story and origins to the characters in my other Encounter fics. I'm following one of the tables from the 100situations challenge on LJ, which I'm planning on registering for real soon. As soon as I can figure out how to link that table… headdesk

Special thanks go out to Okami-chan for beta reading these for me and finding my typos and grammar errors.

* * *

**100 Situations – Table 01  
****Title:** #47 – Kill

It was almost routine now. He readied the chosen weapons laid out for him. Power sword. Electro-net. Idly he wondered who it was this time, what had they done to frag off the establishment, and when had he gone from being a gladiator to an executioner. He missed the glory of pitting his skill against another true fighter. Wresting victory, once again from the jaws of uncertainty. Watching the light fade from his opponent's optics as they fell into stasis lock.

Once it had been about skill. Now it was about death. Death he would bring to some terrified mech.

The mech would be armed, given weapons much as he was. But they had no skill with them, no training. So it was up to him to carry the match, lead the doomed one on, allow hits to score on his golden armor.

Until he was given the signal to kill.


	2. 12: Shelter

100 Situations – Table 01

Title: #12 - Shelter  
Ratings: General  
Summary: Ratchet dumps a problem or three into Aegis lap.

Aegis woke to the insistent buzzing of his comm panel. Checking his internal chronometer he realized he was being interrupted in the middle of his rest period. Groaning with exhaustion, he staggered up towards the panel. This had better be important, he thought angrily.

"Aegis here," he answered the call, striving to hide his annoyance. You never knew who would be calling and these days it always was crucial to be polite.

"Bout time you answered. Get your aft down to my office. I have a situation here and I need you to solve it." Of course politeness is something the mech calling him seemed to avoid at all costs. Ratchet scoffed at his warnings and continued on in his blunt and plainspoken manner. He might be in trouble if he wasn't the best in his field.

"What is it Ratchet? Can't it wait until my rest period is complete?"

"No, it can't wait and you'll see when you get here. I'll be waiting." With that, Ratchet hung up.

Aegis stared at the blank screen for a moment. He tried re-contacting Ratchet but it appeared the medic's comm panel wasn't receiving. Shaking his head in tired annoyance, Aegis considered his options. He could forget this and go back to bed. That seemed to be the smartest option; this had trouble written all over it. But it simply wasn't like Ratchet not to tell him up front what was gong on. They had been friends for a long time. So that left the other option. Get off his aft and go see what was up. He sighed as he got up and headed for his door. He had a feeling he'd regret this.

As he flew towards Ratchet's office, Aegis wondered what he could be involved in that he couldn't solve himself. He had scoffed at joining Aegis' 'underground organization' (if it could be called that at this point), convinced this was something that would 'blow over'. Aegis had tried to convince him that without a strong opposition, the ruling guild of Tyrants would just gain more and more power and be too firmly entrenched to just 'blow over'. Aegis feared his efforts were too little, too late as it was.

He landed, transforming to his primary form at Ratchet's office. He pressed the after hours chime and waited. The door slid open a crack, enough to see half of Ratchet's face. His optics glowed and flickered with tension.

"You came alone? You weren't followed?" he asked, stress evident in his voice.

"Yes, I'm alone, and no, I wasn't followed. Ratchet, what's going on here?"

Ratchet opened the door a little more, and leaned out looking around, searching for, Aegis supposed, his imaginary followers. Aegis sighed and took him by the shoulder and pushed him back into the office, closing the door behind him. It locked automatically. Ratchet gave him an annoyed and little bit uncertain look.

"Okay Ratchet, I'm here, I'm alone and you are acting strange. Now tell me, what, by the Great Generator, is going on?"

Ratchet motioned for him to follow him into the next room. They went from the office and treatment areas into the back where Ratchet maintained his personal residence.

There, to Aegis' astonishment, were three young mechs. All three showed signs of recent repairs, extensive on two of them. Those two, a red and black mech and a silver and red one, lay in stasis sleep on cots. The third, a yellow and black mech with an incredibly feral look to him, watched over the other two as they rested. His icy blue optics narrowed as Aegis entered, following his every move as if assessing his threat level.

Aegis stepped back out of the room, pulling Ratchet with him. He carefully closed the door and looked Ratchet in the optic.

"Ratchet," he began carefully. "Why are Mecha Terra's three most wanted mechs in your personal living space?"

"They didn't have anywhere else to go. They are in pretty rough shape Aegis."

"I'm sure they didn't. Do you realize how much danger you are in? Those are the Lords of Destruction in there. And their accomplice. Do you know how many people they've killed in the past 24 hours? Not to mention what the authorities will do to you if they find you giving them shelter." Aegis was incredulous, of all mechs on Mecha Terra, he would have thought Ratchet had more sense.

Ratchet gave Aegis an annoyed look. "And you of all people should know that most of what's reported in the news is a load of slag."

Aegis countered, "Ratchet, at least two of them are trained killers, with hair trigger reflexes and tempers. What's to prevent them from turning on you as well? And you still haven't answered my first question. Why are they here, of all places?"

"I'm in no danger from them Aegis. Really. They aren't barbarians or wild alien beasts. Just a couple of young mechs in a bad situation. They rescued the other young one there on their way out. Just calm down and – " Ratchet didn't get to finish.

"Just answer the fragging question Ratchet!"

"I did answer the question! They don't have anywhere else to go! The twins don't know anyone but me outside that fragging Arena and their friend is the only survivor of his guild," Ratchet replied with equal heat. It annoyed him greatly when Aegis decided to be thick.

They glared at each other for a long moment, tempers sparking. Then, as Ratchet's words filtered through his processors, Aegis began to calm down. He was still annoyed but losing his temper and yelling wasn't going to solve the situation; besides yelling, cursing and throwing things was more Ratchet's style.

"Ok, let me be sure I've got this straight. They came here because they know you and don't have any where to go."

"That's right."

"Ratchet, how do they know you? Your low opinion of those matches is well known."

"I was called in for an emergency surgery on Sideswipe, the red one, one time. I'm guessing I made an impression."

"You usually do." Aegis still looked baffled. "Why were you called in?"

"He was in pretty rough shape. Nearly died."

"Don't they usually just let the gravely injured die? Finish them off?"

"Yes but he won the match. You should have seen the other mech."

"Oh sweet Nexus. What about the other one? The silver one?"

"He's the last Courier."

Aegis equilibrium stabilizers felt like they had gone offline and his fuel tanks were unsettled. The little silver and red was even hotter than the gladiators. The Courier Guild had gotten into a dispute with the Tyrant Guild and had some scandal 'revealed' charges trumped up and all of them were sentenced to death by combat. The twin fighters had, by order of the Ruling Three, executed the majority of the guild. He wondered what the little mech thought of that or if he even knew.

"So what are you going to do with them? They can't stay here."

"I know. That's why I called you. We've got to find some place to shelter them."

Aegis closed his optics. He'd been afraid Ratchet would say that.


	3. 83: Prison

A/N: Takes place before Shelter. All disclaimers are in chapter one. I'd like to thank Okami-chan for betaing these for me. She's trying to break me of my awful "talking head" habit. ;D

**#83 - Prison**

"Get in there you worthless piece of scrap!" The guard roughly shoved him into the cell.

The silver and red youth stumbled and fell forward with a yelp. He couldn't prevent himself from falling onto his face because his hands were shackled behind his back. He lay there for a long moment, still in shock that this was happening to him.

He slowly picked himself up, blushing at the rude and cruel comments the guards were making.

"P-please… I'm innocent. I didn't do anything." he pleaded with his captors as they activated the energy bars and deactivated the shackles. He rubbed his wrists and hands to ease the painful tingle coming from the resumed flow of fluids and nanomechs.

They laughed cruelly again and turned to walk away.

"Please! Let me speak to my guild leader! He'll advocate for me!" he pleaded with them.

They stopped and turned, their cruel smirks making him tremble.

The one that pushed him spoke. "Talk to him all you want, scraplet. For as long as we let you keep vocalizer that is." Then they left.

He hugged himself, trembling. He had never been so terrified in his life. He glanced around the cell they had put him in and jumped when he realized he wasn't alone. Another mech lay crumpled in the corner, air intakes rasping and wheezing softly. The young mech cautiously stepped closer; nearly purging his tanks when he realized the mech lay in a glittering puddle of his own fluids. The mech didn't seem to notice the new arrival's presence, too wrapped up in his own suffering. Another couple of cautious steps forward and he realized he knew this poor, wrecked mech. This was why the guards had mocked him. It was his Guild Leader!

"Allegro!" He fell on his knees, heedless now of the pool of coolants and lubricants. He carefully lifted his leader into his lap. He was shocked at the horrendous damage that covered his body; fluids poured freely from jagged slashes across his chest piece.

"Who…who is it? Who's there?" Allegro's once rich, resonant voice was staticky and barely audible. It was only when the damaged mech lifted his head that the burned slashes across his optics band and main sensory cluster could be seen.

"It's Bluestreak sir. What happened to you? What's going on? We didn't do anything wrong, did we? Why are they doing this? Allegro, are you going to be all right? Please tell me that. You can't die! Promise me that you won't die!" Panic filled the youth's processor as he realized his one hope for rescue lay leaking his life away in his arms.

"Bluestreak, Bluestreak, oh Nexus, why you?" Despair and fear for his young student filled Allegro's weak voice.

"Allegro, sir, please tell me what's going on?!" Bluestreak trembled in helpless panic. The guild leader reached up weakly and placed a shaking hand on the young one's cheek. This calmed him somewhat. But Allegro's damage was too great and had gone to long unattended. He didn't any time left.

"Be brave Bluestreak. Be brave and be strong when they take you for your turn. It's all you can do. Be brave….". With those final words Allegro grew still.

Leaving young Bluestreak alone with his terror, grief and hopelessness.


	4. 90: Bomb

100 Situations – Table 01

Title: #90 - Bomb  
Ratings: General  
Summary: Set in my AU. Pre-Earth. .

Ratchet ducked into the abandoned building. He did a quick check to see if anyone followed him. Finding nothing, he cautiously made his way to the hidden entrance to the Underground base. Carefully closing it behind him, he turned to head down the corridor to the control room, where he was to meet with Aegis and a new mech known as Prowl.

Thoughts turning towards the meeting ahead, incidents he needed to let Aegis know about, wondering what this Prowl was like, he failed to notice the anomaly in the corridor. Until he stepped on it.

BOOM!!

The force of the blast threw him forward and he landed hard. The floor was slick beneath him, causing him to slip a bit as he struggled to get his sensors functioning properly again.

'Nexus! I must be leaking badly! ' Ratchet's thoughts were borderline panicky. Especially since the fluids felt strange under his hands. He ran a diagnostic dreading what he would find, thinking it would be a dangerous mixture of fluids.

Nothing. All systems optimal.

What the Frag!

Ratchet slowly realized that while he was wet, there was no pain. He brought his optics back online and did a visual inspection. His outer plating was no longer white. He was covered in a multitude of garish clashing colors of paint. His optics narrowed.

Two voices whispered nearby.

"I think we overdid the blast."

"No way. That was great!"

"Yeah, I guess it was." Snicker.

"You guess? Blue, you've got to be kidding me?"

With a low growl, Ratchet got up and stalked towards the whispers. An innocent-looking maintenance closet stood nearby with its door open a crack and muffled giggles coming softly from within.

He threw the door open, and gave a dark glare at two-thirds of the reason he was involved with the Underground in the first place.

"Sideswipe!! Bluestreak!!" he roared.

Aegis and Prowl rushed down the corridor, towards the explosion. They weren't sure what exactly to expect, but a multi-colored medic trying to throttle two giggling youths certainly wasn't it. As they stood there, taking in the scene, they were joined by other mechs, among them, Sunstreaker.

Sunstreaker, to Aegis surprise, didn't react to Ratchet's assault on his twin. Instead, he smirked in an amused way.

Turning to Aegis he deadpanned. "Looks like Side's prank 'bombed.'"

He really had to do something about both the gladiators' senses of humor.


	5. 73: Return

100 Situations – Table 01

Title: #73 – Return  
Ratings: General  
Summary: Mirage is unhappy.

Mirage sat in his seat; strapped in as they rocketed out of the atmosphere. He looked out the tiny reinforced window as his home world grew smaller and smaller behind them.

It wasn't supposed to happen like this! He wasn't supposed to be here!

Tyrant High Command had contracted him to infiltrate a rebel group. A ridiculously easy task for one of his talents. But this rebel group was a little different. Much to his surprise, well-respected members of the community ran the group. They were cautious and intelligent, making it difficult to penetrate into their organization. It didn't matter; the results were a foregone conclusion. Except this time, something went wrong.

Aegis, the leader of this group, was too intelligent; more so than Mirage had given him credit for. He had known he would be infiltrated, and so he had taken precautions. And in the chaos and confusion surrounding the raid and subsequent escape of Aegis' rebel group, Mirage was supposed to have slipped out and reported to his superiors. Only that blasted red gladiator had scooped him up, 'so he wouldn't get lost in the shuffle.'

So he was stuck, continuing to play his role, escaping from his beloved home, not knowing when he could return.


	6. 20: Love

I've decided to stop being lazy and actually put the Author's Note in this time. ;D

**DISCLAIMERS:** I don't own Transformers. They just came over from Hasbro to visit and be general pains-in-the-aft. All the humans in the story are mine, as are Steelshot and Sola. Crash belongs to Megara2 and is used with permission. Rating is T for now, may go up at anytime.

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: **These stories are character sketches I'm writing to get a feel for some of the NPCs in a Mechamorphosis game I'm creating. I started this to give myself some back-story and origins to the characters in my other Encounter fics. I'm following one of the tables from the 100situations challenge on LJ, which I'm planning on registering for real soon. As soon as I can figure out how to link that table… headdesk

Special thanks go out to Okami-chan for beta reading these for me and finding my typos and grammar errors and to Megara2 for letting me borrow Crash.

**WARNINGS:** This will be the first slash bit I've posted here. Nothing overt or detailed, but it's there.

* * *

Sideswipe lay back and closed his optics. He was exhausted from working too hard to get their new base operational after the last Tyrant attack; he couldn't focus his optics and his sensors gave erroneous data as often as real data. Ratchet had kicked him out of the construction zone and told him in no uncertain terms that HE, not Sideswipe, would determine when Sideswipe had rested enough. And it still wasn't enough. Not enough to send him into stasis without dreams. Not enough to stop the long buried memories from resurfacing and haunting his every waking moment.

Exhaustion sent him into stasis rest…and into the land of memories.

_Sideswipe lay in wait, crouched in the maintenance supply closet, watching the small mech work. He was a slight, slender mech, guild-less like so many other menial workers. A nobody, usually not even given a second glance._

_He had given this one a second glance though, mainly because he tripped over him in the hallway once. Neither of them had been watching where they were going but instead of striking the stammering, cowering mech, the unusually easygoing, red gladiator helped him up. And was lost in the gentle depths of his aqua optics; the soft planes of his face. He smiled, thinking back. He would have probably still been standing there, gazing in awe-struck stupidity if the object of his adoration hadn't shied away fearfully. Of course, then, the chase was on._

_Sideswipe put all his free time and some of his not-so-free-time into finding out about this lovely little mech, talking to him, drawing him out of his shell and then drawing him into secluded spots. Like this one._

_The mech, going by the unlikely designation of Crash cleaned the floor, completely unaware of his observer. Sideswipe waited, watching as Crash slowly made his way down the hallway until he was in just the right position… _

_Then he pounced, grabbing the startled mech and pulling him into the closet, and closing the door._

_Crash panicked, flailing, and kicking, and trying to scream. Strong arms held him, and a large hand muffled his vocalizer._

"_Shhhh, calm down, its me," a familiar voice purred softly into his audio. _

_Crash stopped flailing and instead grabbed at the hand to uncover his vocalizer. "Sideswipe, I thought I asked you to stop doing that. You scared the bolts out of me."_

_Crash couldn't see it in the dark but he knew Sideswipe was grinning mischievously. His optics certainly glowed merrily._

"_Stop doing what?" Sideswipe's tone was all innocence as he released Crash and watched him turn around. He reached up and ran a finger down the soft angles of Crash's cheek._

"_We have to stop meeting like this. People are becoming suspicious," Crash whispered._

_Sideswipe cupped his face and leaned in close. Crash slid his arms around him._

"_How else are we supposed to meet?" Sideswipe whispered back._

_Crash started to reply, but the door opened. Caught, they turned startled looks towards the frowning mechs._

_Dusk, Sideswipe's master gave them a dark, disapproving glare as they released each other; Crash trembling in terror, Sideswipe defiant._

"_Take him and teach him some obedience," Dusk ordered the guards waiting behind him. "I'll deal with the other." _

_As one, they moved forward._

"_No!" Sideswipe only had time for that single word of defiance, before they restrained him, and dragged him away. The guards had plenty of experience in dealing with defiant gladiators._

"Sideswipe! Wakeup! Before you hurt yourself!" "Waahhh!"

The pitch and tone of the human voices cut through the chains of the nightmare faster than being awakened by another Exile. Sideswipe almost jumped off his bunk, system cycles running double time. He sucked air into his intakes, desperately trying to cool down his speeding systems.

When he had settled down somewhat, he glanced over at the doorway to his room. Gwen stood there with her new infant, making comforting noises to settle his crying. Strangely enough, it comforted Sideswipe as well. Which was odd in itself. He hadn't realized he needed to be comforted.

Gwen looked up from soothing Corey to see him watching her. "You okay?"

"Yeah fine. Corey okay? He sounds pretty upset." Sideswipe had rolled over and was leaning on one elbow.

"Just scared by all the yelling. He's fine." Corey had quieted, having cried himself to sleep. Gwen continued to rock him.

"Oh. What are you doing here?" Sideswipe blinked his optic covers blearily. He was still exhausted.

"Ratchet sent me to check on you. Are you all right? You were yelling and thrashing pretty good. I almost called Ratchet and Sunstreaker." She stepped inside the room and the door slid shut behind her.

"I already said I'm fine."

"That's not fine Sideswipe. Something has been bugging you for a while now. Even before the Tyrants captured us." Gwen gave him a hard look, as if she was scanning his systems. She must have picked that up from Ratchet; she certainly reminded Sideswipe of him right then.

"Gwen, this isn't something you need to concern yourself with. It has nothing to do with human/Exile relations." Sideswipe shuddered as he remembered his dream. He really didn't want that put in some file somewhere.

"Is that what you think I'm here for? Sideswipe, you know what I think of John. You really think I tell him squat about you?" John was the officer in charge of the humans that worked with the Exiles.

Sideswipe blinked. "Isn't that your job?"

Gwen smirked and held up Corey, a small bundle cradled in her arms. "I'm on maternity leave. Back dated to the day before we were grabbed. I told John to go to hell."

Sideswipe couldn't help grinning back. He could see it; Gwen and John did not get along.

Gwen walked towards the bunks the twins shared. Sideswipe jumped down and sat on Sunstreaker's bunk. He picked up Gwen, and sat her beside him.

She looked up at him. "So are you going to tell me what's bugging you or do I have to pester it out of you? Ask Brad, I will do it."

Sideswipe closed his optics. Once Gwen was on a topic, little deterred her. "I really don't want to talk about it."

"Who's Crash?"

"What?"

Gwen repeated herself, this time in badly accented, halting Mecha Terran.

Sideswipe was taken aback. "How long have you been able to understand what I'm saying in Mecha Terran?"

"Not long and I'm still learning. I got the swears down pat. Only reason I picked up Crash's name is because you kept repeating it over and over and you used the name inflections."

Sideswipe was embarrassed. "Uhm…"

Gwen looked him in the optic. "Sometimes it helps to tell someone, even if they can't do anything but listen."

Sideswipe thought about that for a moment, then haltingly told her about Crash and his dreams that seemed to pop up out of nowhere. Gwen listened without interrupting until he stopped talking. Corey had woken at sometime during his description but Gwen had changed him and popped a bottle into his mouth without a fuss and without missing anything Sideswipe was saying.

Gwen put a gentle hand on his leg. "You'll have to take a rain check on the hug until the next time Smallfoot shrinks you down."

Sideswipe looked down at her, unsure of how to respond to that.

Gwen continued, looking at him seriously. "It's bothering you now because you are starting to heal. You suddenly feel again. You care about other people now, other than just Sunstreaker. That's why the dreams and nightmares."

"Then why isn't Sunstreaker getting nightmares?" Sideswipe was a little put out about that.

"He's different than you Side. He's a lot colder. But he's healing too." Gwen patted his leg reassuringly.

"He is?"

"The moment he started drawing, he started to change from what he was and started to heal."

"How did you know he draws?" That surprised Sideswipe. Sunstreaker didn't let anything slip that would ruin his bad-aft image.

"Side, who do you think gets him the art supplies?" Gwen was amused. She hefted Corey into a more comfortable position and smiled at him.

"Oh."

"Yes, oh. Now, back to you."

Sideswipe squirmed in his seat on the bunk, uncomfortable.

Gwen cocked her head. "Side, this isn't like you. Whatever this is, it's really messing you up. Come on, you can tell me."

Sideswipe sighed, a gesture he had picked up from Gwen. "How much do you know about the Arena, Gwen?"

"Quite a bit. Ratchet doesn't spare me the nasty details."

"Ratchet doesn't know everything about it." He really only knew what the twins told him.

"Not as much as you or Sunstreaker," she acknowledged.

"Not even close. Gwen, I…" Sideswipe hesitated.

Gwen watched him carefully. "You don't feel comfortable telling me more."

"Are you telepathic or something?"

"No, I've just spent too many years having to guess what's on Brad's mind." She grimaced.

Sideswipe was desperate to get the subject off him. "You know Gwen, if you want to talk, we could go for a drive."

No such luck. "I'm okay Side, let's take care of you first. Talk to Aegis if you can't talk to me. You won't have to translate or explain stuff to him."

"Aegis?"

"He's a good listener, Side."

"All right. I'll think about it."

"Good." She patted his leg again. He carefully lifted her off the bunk and lowered her to the floor. She looked up at him. "Try and go back into stasis, Side. You need the rest."

"I will." He couldn't argue with her there.

She walked to the door, cradling her sleeping infant. She turned back when she reached it. "Side?"

"Yeah?" He paused from getting up.

"What happened to Crash?"

Sideswipe seemed to wilt where he sat. Gwen knew she had found the core of what was bothering him but there was no joy in the discovery; only empathy for his pain.

After a long moment, he spoke. "Crash was punished for interfering with an Arena slave by becoming one. He was put to battle in the ring. He didn't make it. Sunny was supposed to be his opponent. He refused. We weren't allowed to refuse to fight, so he was punished for it. That was the first time he had refused to fight. The only other time was when we escaped."

"I'm sorry Side."

"Truestrike did the dirty work when Sunny wouldn't. They made us watch the match. HE made us watch the match. The next time I faced Truestrike in the ring, I killed him. But he's not who I wanted. He was forever out of my reach." Sideswipe's optics grew cold; his voice soft but there was an unsettling edge to it.

Gwen watched him. She could see why even mechs larger than he was feared him in the Arena. She had seen it before as well, when the Tyrants had captured them and Starscream had forced Sideswipe to fight for his entertainment, using her safety as leverage. She realized too, that she should be frightened of him but she wasn't; not after he had done so much to try to protect her and her family. She also realized as she looked at the proud, angry, and yet at the same time sad figure, that to her, he was family. She had come to care for him deeper than any of her so-called 'blood relations.' That decided her. She walked back over to him and touched his leg. He looked down at her, confused by her actions.

"Let's go find Smallfoot," she said gently.

"Huh?"

"I'm taking you home with me and that's the only way you'll fit," she wore an expression on her face, one he had always associated with her being around her children. And here it was, directed at him. It was unsettling.

"Huh?!"

"So you don't have to be alone. With Sunstreaker working double shifts, you're all by yourself in here. Come on Side, let's go." She would have towed him along with her if she could.

"But Brad…"

"Can lump it. He can go visit his sister or jump off the bridge if it bugs him." Gwen made a dismissive wave with her free hand.

"Okay." Sideswipe smiled a little; Brad baiting was a favorite sport of his, so this amused him. He stood, and carefully picked Gwen up again. He found it funny that she would allow him to carry her now, as long as he wasn't too bouncy. She settled herself and Corey comfortably in his palm.

As they headed out into the halls in search of Smallfoot, Gwen looked up at Sideswipe again. "You won, you know."

"Gwen," Sideswipe sighed in exasperation."you really need to stop coming out of the Twilight Zone with your comments."

"You really need to stop watching late night reruns." Gwen rolled her eyes and hugged Corey a little tighter."I meant Dusk. You beat him. You and Sunny."

Sideswipe stopped walking and lifted her to optic level, giving her a look that questioned her sanity. "I always knew you were crazy but…"

"No really. I mean it. You won. You escaped, you survived, you're starting fresh, you are still the best fighter around…"

"Gwen…"

"Let me finish. And not only did he lose two big sources of his income but best of all, he can't control you anymore. You're free Sideswipe. If you let yourself be."

Bright blue optics blinked at her.

"Let it go. Let Crash go. He's gone, you can't help him anymore except by cherishing his memory."

"Gwen, I can't…" Sideswipe covered his face with his other hand and shook his head in denial.

"You can. I know you can. Look, I don't know what the customs are on Mecha Terra, but on Earth we hold a ceremony when someone dies."

"What good does that do? He's gone, he died horribly." Sideswipe glared, his face twisting in contempt.

"It honors his memory. Don't dwell on how he died, remember how he lived. Acknowledge your love. Mourn him, then let him go. That's what it's for. It's not for Crash, he's beyond caring; it's for you." Gwen gazed steadily back, not backing down. They matched stares for a short time, then Sideswipe looked away.

Sideswipe was silent for a bit, then he resumed walking. They found Smallfoot, who took one good look at Sideswipe and shrunk him down to human size without question when Gwen asked. She even gave them both a lift to Gwen's apartment. Getting carried like a human was a new experience for Sideswipe and he wasn't sure he liked it.

As Gwen let them into the apartment, she started to look at him with concern. He hadn't spoken since before they found Smallfoot. He looked about curiously, taking in the changes in the room since the baby had arrived. She placed Corey in his crib and went back to where she had left Sideswipe.

"Where are Brad and Andrea?" Sideswipe had noted their absence from the apartment.

"He mentioned something about going shopping. He'd have taken her with him."

"Ah."

"Come on, you can rest in Andrea's room. She won't mind and she'll even let you cuddle with her friends." She winked at him.

He rolled his optics but let himself be led to the room. He lay down on the human bed, springs creaking and tried to get comfortable.

Gwen sat on the edge. "Want a blanket?"

"No, I don't need one. And I don't need a squishy toy either." The few that had been on the bed had been shoved to the floor.

Gwen smiled. "I got this strange urge to tuck you in, sing you a lullaby and kiss you goodnight."

"Now I know you're crazy." He hoped she wouldn't. If Sunstreaker got wind of it, he'd never live it down.

"You knew that when you met me Side. Go into stasis. I'll be here if you need me. And after all the mess is cleaned up, we'll have that memorial service. You aren't the only one who needs it." She leaned down and gave him the promised hug.

Sideswipe accepted the hug, carefully hugging her back. He marveled that something so fragile could be so strong. He had hugged her to humor her, Mecha Terrans aren't a really tactile species, but he'd be fragged if he didn't feel better. Better than he had in a long time. He lay down and powered down into stasis rest. He was out before Gwen had turned off the light and closed the door behind her.

He dreamed of Crash again, he always did. But it left him with a warm happy feeling now, a fond memory instead of the piercing ache it used to. After so long, he had finally laid Crash to rest.


	7. 92: Trap

**DISCLAIMERS:** I don't own Transformers. They just came over from Hasbro to visit and be general pains-in-the-aft. All the humans in the story are mine, as are Steelshot and Sola. Rating is T for now, may go up at anytime. Most of the "history" described by Hound in this story is taken from the Mechamorphosis source book from Fantasy Flight Games. I don't own it, just tweaked it a little to fit it into my growing AU. The Animech Guild mentioned in the history also belongs to them.

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:** These stories are character sketches I'm writing to get a feel for some of the NPCs in a Mechamorphosis game I'm creating. I started this to give myself some back-story and origins to the characters in my other Encounter fics. I'm following one of the tables from the 100situations challenge on LJ, which I'm planning on registering for real soon. As soon as I can figure out how to link that table… headdesk.

**Special thanks go out to Okami-chan for beta reading these for me and finding my typos and grammar errors. **

* * *

  
Lucy walked into the room, escorted by Capt John Hunt. On the other side of a rather heavy-looking table and set of chairs, a six-foot tall, green and silver robot stood there, looking out the window. She swallowed. She had been handpicked to work with the Exiles, but meeting an alien robot up close for the first time was a little nerve wracking.

He turned around when they entered and cocked his head with a friendly smile.

"Hound, this is Lucy Masters. She's going to be your partner. Miss Masters, meet Hound, Exile Explorer." Captain Hunt swept his arm from woman to robot as he introduced them.

Hound nodded his head in greeting. "It is a pleasure to meet you, Lucy Masters. I haven't had very much opportunity to speak to a human. You have a very beautiful planet."

Lucy took a deep breath and mentally kicked her voice into working. "It's very nice to meet you as well. Welcome to Earth. The Captain here tells me you have come a long way." She kicked herself. That was SO corny sounding. She hoped he didn't say 'Take me to your leader' or 'I come in peace' or something equally corny in response.

"Thank you, Lucy Masters." Hound seemed to appreciate her greeting and Captain Hunt just looked amused.

She supposed he was thankful that she was a lot more agreeable than that other woman she saw in the entrance room. She hoped that the woman's foul temper was just a side effect of her pregnancy, but sweet lord, what a mouth! Lucy was glad that the small woman's ire wasn't directed at her and thankful that the robot she was going to work with was much smaller than the red and yellow giants that had been in there as well.

Captain Hunt's voice snapped her out of her musings. "I'll leave you two to get acquainted," he said and walked out the door. It clicked shut behind him.

She felt both bereft of his company and glad he was gone. She was pretty easy going but Captain Hunt seemed to make it his mission to rub everyone the wrong way. She looked at the alien in the room with her. He stood and looked back at her. There was an awkward moment before he spoke.

"You are a different configuration than Gwen, Lucy Masters." His smooth, almost human-sounding, voice had a burr or some other sort of mechanical sound that she could hear if she paid attention.

She was silent for a moment, trying to figure out how to respond to that. She finally settled on, "Who's Gwen? And please, just Lucy is fine."

"Ah, sorry about that. I had assumed you had already met her. I heard her yelling at Captain Hunt again just before you came in. You and she have different physical configurations. Gwen shortens her designation as well." Judging from the bright 'eyes' and smile, Hound appeared to be amused by this Gwen, who was apparently the irate pregnant woman.

He was also fairly observant if he could tell the difference between the round belly pregnancy had bestowed on Gwen and her own somewhat round figure.

"Gwen is pregnant and I'm not. That's why we are shaped different." Lucy explained.

Hound mulled this over for a second, furrowing his 'eyebrows'. "What's 'pregnant'?"

"She's having a baby," Lucy replied. Then sighed at his still baffled expression. "Children. Offspring. She's making a little human."

That seemed to clear things up.

"I get it. That explains why Ratchet gave us a brief explanation on organic lifecycles. Not that it really explained anything. Most of his description went right over my head." Hound chuckled at the memory of that.

Lucy smiled, her nervousness dissipating quickly. Hound seemed very pleasant and seemed as laid back as she usually was.

Hound continued, "I guess we'll save 'Human Reproduction 101', as Ratchet called it, for another day. So, how did you come to be my guide? I hope you weren't 'shanghaied' into it like Gwen says she was."

Lucy shook her head. "No, nothing like that. I needed a job, preferably in my field of study and have been having a heck of a time finding one. I was actually filling out applications to fast food restaurants when I got the call for this. Though I'm not really sure how this relates to a major in Ecology."

Hound's face lit up. "Ecology?"

"Yes, it's a joint major of botany and zoology." Lucy explained. "I'm studying plants and animals and how they relate to each other."

"Well, that explains why we were put together. And I know Ratchet and Perceptor will love to talk with you as well." His eyes (or what seemed to pass as such) lit up in excitement from a soft yellow glow to a much brighter one.

"I'm sorry? How does that explain it?" Lucy furrowed her eyebrows, confused.

"You can tell us about this world. Like what those little flying creatures are or those 'fluffy poles' as Sideswipe calls them."

"Flying creatures? That one's easy, you are probably referring to birds. Give me more information and I could probably figure out which type. But, I'm sorry, fluffy poles?" Lucy had no idea about that one but it was so absurd she had to giggle.

Hound chuckled as well, sharing the joke. "Gwen says they are called trees. I've seen similar life forms on other worlds but our name for them is long and complex and hard for even us to pronounce. I don't think your species has the vocal ability to speak it."

Lucy giggled some more. "I have to meet this Sideswipe. Calling trees 'fluffy poles'. He sounds like a card."

Hound cocked his head. "Not sure what you mean by 'card' but he was the red mech out there with Gwen. Sunstreaker was the yellow one. Guess Captain Hunt figured you should meet them later. They are a little… intense."

"I guess I'll see when I meet them. So how do you say it in your language?" Lucy was more interested in some of the things Hound had said than in 'intense' mechs. If they were anything like some of the guys at the university, meeting them could definitely wait.

Hound blinked. It was rather interesting to watch. "Uhm… say what in my language?"

"Tree. You said it was long and complex and hard to pronounce. I'd like to hear it. Sounds like some of our scientific names for things. Do you mind if we sit?" She pulled out one of the chairs. It was as heavy as it looked but she assumed that was so it could hold the robot… er… mech that shared the room with her. She silently reminded herself to get the terms right as she sat down.

"Oh! All right. Like this." Hound sat down across from her and rattled off a strange but pleasant collection of whirs, beeps and clicks.

"I believe you. That is definitely beyond my vocal ability. Sounds nice though. Almost like singing." Lucy made herself comfortable in the chair. It definitely needed a cushion.

"Singing?" Hound's optics seemed to widen. She was amazed how expressive his face was.

"Yes. It sort of flows nicely and is very musical. You have a nice voice." Lucy grinned. If she didn't know better, she'd think she was embarrassing him. He definitely looked like he wanted to blush.

"Uhm thanks." Even Hound's voice seemed to blush.

Lucy decided to save him. "Captain Hunt said you were an explorer and you said you have been to other worlds."

"Well, I used to be an explorer. I was a ranking member in the Explorer Guild back on Mecha Terra. Back in the early days of the Tyrants rule." Hound seemed to sag a little and pull back. He glanced to the side and sighed.

"What's the matter?" Lucy was confused and concerned by the sudden change in his behavior.

"Nothing, just old memories. A lot has happened in a short time. It's a little overwhelming at times." Hound turned back to her and straightened, seeming to shove aside whatever was bothering him. He smiled, still a little sad. "I guess you could say I'm an explorer once again. I have a whole new world to discover."

"I know we just met Hound, but if you need a friendly shoulder or ear, you've got it. We are going to be working together, and I think you need it," Lucy offered, still concerned.

Hound tilted his head, leaning forward a little with his hands crossed on the table before him. He tapped one finger and considered her.

"This could take a little while. It's a long story. I'd have to explain a bit about my home world for you to understand it." Hound straightened up and leaned back in his chair.

"I've got time Hound," Lucy assured him. "Just let me get something to drink and maybe a pillow for this chair."

"Pillow?" Lucy thought that the way Hound's 'eyebrows' furrowed and mouth gaped slightly was endearing as he stared at her, baffled.

"Yes, these chairs were made with your size and weight in mind but they aren't too comfortable for me." Lucy stood and stretched, rubbing her sore backside.

Hound stood as well and walked to the door. "Come with me. We'll see if we can't find you a human chair. Const Viton insisted that there be some available, especially if Gwen was going to be working with us. Apparently, making her sit in a chair like these is tantamount to cruelty. I'm not sure I understand why, since most of the other humans don't have a problem with them. Is it a human femme requirement?"

"No, those are just really uncomfortable chairs for humans, especially if you are pregnant. I'm not entirely sure why, I just know that pregnant women have back problems and other such difficulties. Thank this constable when you get a chance. He probably saved someone from getting yelled at." Lucy followed him out the door. Looking around there was no sign of the big red and yellow mechs or the small human woman. Thankfully. It would give her time to speak more with Hound before meeting some of his more intense friends.

They found a chair and some coffee in what appeared to be a makeshift kitchen area. Lucy found a thermal pitcher and filled it with the coffee, after mixing it to the way she liked it. After putting a fresh pot on for everyone else, she and Hound made their way back to the room they met in. They saw a couple other mechs, tall and predominantly white ones whom Hound named as Jazz and Prowl, but they were in deep in conversation and didn't acknowledge them other than a nod from Prowl and a jaunty wave from Jazz.

Closing the door behind them, Lucy put her pitcher and mug on the table and turned to Hound. He had replaced her chair and moved back to his own seat.

"I'm glad I'm working with you, Hound. I'd get neck strain from working with the others. Are they all that big?" Lucy sat and gave him an impish grin.

"Most of them. Mirage is the same size as me. Jazz is the largest of us. Everyone else is around Prowl's height. You get used to the neck strain after a while." Hound said, and they both had a laugh at that.

Lucy poured herself a cup of coffee and settled comfortably into her chair. "Tell me about your home world."

Hound's face became serious, mouth forming a stern line and eyes narrowing a little. "Where do I start? Hmmmm. History before the Tyrants took over is kind of suspect at best. According to Aegis, they have done a lot of revising. I was created after all this so, I'm just relating it to you as it was told to me."

Lucy sipped her coffee and lowered the mug back to the table. "Their name, Tyrants, isn't the most encouraging sounding."

Hound nodded in agreement. "It's the closest English word we could find for them."

"I get the feeling they live up to it too," Lucy replied.

Hound nodded again and Lucy settled back in her chair with her mug, listening to his warm, smooth voice tell her of an alien world.

_Our world is called Mecha Terra and we are called mechamorphs or mechs for short. I'm not sure where my people came from, as I said, the Tyrants have creatively revised our historical records to suit their whims. Some believe we were created by an unknown, alien species, who are now long gone. The Tyrants would have us believe we emerged whole from the Great Generator._

_The Great Generator is or rather, was, the source of all energy and life on Mecha Terra before it shut down. I've heard stories of the fantastic things they used its power to achieve. To transform our world and its moons into a technological wonderland. A shame I think, because Mecha Terra used to be as varied and diverse as Earth is. It also supplied all the mechamorphs with the Nexus energy they required to live and function at peak efficiency. _

_Everything was wondrous; it was a golden age. And then the Great Generator shut down. _

_No one knows why it ceased to supply energy; even the greatest scientific minds among our people aren't really sure how it worked. And no one could fix it. Chaos ensued. Energy was at a premium. Power reserves were hoarded and those without would do just about anything to obtain them. _

_The Cynet ruled Mecha Terra and its colonies. It was a counsel formed by representatives from all the Guilds. When the Great Generator shut down and the Cynet couldn't handle the crisis, it started to lose its authority. Several conflicting Guilds seceded from the Cynet. We were on the brink of a civil war._

_Then a new Guild stepped forward with an offer. They had large reserves of energy and were willing to share it, in exchange for being allowed to control pretty much everything. The Cynet, in its final resolution, acceded its authority to this Guild and the Tyrants took control of Mecha Terra._

_At first, everything was good. The Tyrants provided each mech with a daily ration of energy and quelled the riots and conflicts and established peace. They sent out a call to all of the Guilds to provide a workforce to build and man a fleet of ships. These ships would be used to locate new, resource rich worlds and replenish the planet's reserves of energy. That was how my Guild came into being. The Explorer Guild._

_The fleet was launched and some ships met with success. Energy and resource rich worlds were found. But space exploration is dangerous and most missions met with failure and all mechs were lost. Or so we were told. We had no reason to doubt it either._

_My first missions had been successful. The worlds we discovered and studied were amazingly beautiful and lush with life. One even had a primitive society of insectoid creatures evolving on it. It dissipates my spark to think of what happened to them._

_We had just returned from that particular mission, barely getting time to unwind and rest from the long journey when we were summoned to head out on another mission. And found out why the 'failed missions' always vanished without a trace._

_Instead of being sent out on our ship, we were ambushed and taken to secret labs. I watched in horror as one by one, my friends and shipmates were taken, strapped to a table and drained dry of all their Nexus energy. They were then completely disassembled and reduced to spare parts. Then it was my turn._

_I'm not really sure how I survived. I almost didn't. I do remember that the pain of having my life energy forcibly drained was the most excruciating I've ever experienced. And I am not the same mech I once was. All I know is somehow Jazz was able to rescue what remained of me and have me rebuilt into a much smaller form. I was once as large as Prowl or Sideswipe, but my damage and the state of my spark after being drained prevented me from occupying a form that size again. Jazz had me rebuilt and passed me off as a newly created companion of his, even though there is no actual link between us. I'll always be grateful to him for that. Even though I had to pretend I was a barely sentient Controller companion, those were some of the happiest times of my life. _

_I found out later, that my crew was one of the last to be killed that way by the Tyrants. The spare parts that they had reduced everyone to, was the clue that gave them away. The Animech Guild, the mechs responsible for animating new mechs and rebuilding mechs that had been shutdown or destroyed. They had been given the parts to use at their discretion. They recognized some of the parts and investigated. They discovered that those parts belonged to Explorer mechs thought lost in space. They confronted the Tyrants on this and were given the choice: submit to the energy drain themselves or leave Mecha Terra. They would not be allowed to remain with such dangerous knowledge. They chose to leave._

_The Tyrants broke their half of the agreement though and some of them chased the Animechs into space. Both their ships ended up too close to the White Hole. That's a spatial anomaly that is supposed to be the direct opposite of a Black Hole. It is an extremely bright point in space, unstable energy and gravity wells marking its event horizon. Not a fun thing to be around, let me tell you. That's how we got to Earth. Don't know where the Animechs and their Tyrant pursuers ended up, if they survived at all._

_After the Animechs left, things went downhill on Mecha Terra. The remaining Tyrants increased their control and stricter rationing of energy began. The other Guilds started to protest the draconian methods the Tyrants were employing. Those that disagreed too loudly had scandals and charges trumped up against them. They were sentenced to death or enslavement. I'm not sure which was the worse punishment._

_Underground groups started to spring up. They consisted of mechs dissatisfied with the Tyrant rule, on the run from their Enforcers or escaped from their clutches. Or all three, in the case of some of our group here. That's what we were, an underground group, led by Aegis. Most of these groups were found out and the mechs were killed, either outright or sentenced to fight to the death in the Arena. _

_The Arena is another story all together. If you want the gory, and I mean gory, details, best to ask Sideswipe or Sunstreaker. They were gladiators there. But the short of it was, mechs fought each other, sometimes to the death, for the entertainment of the masses. It was incredibly popular and incredibly brutal. It was also an easy way to dispose of inconvenient mechs. The poor mech would be given weapons and tossed into the ring with an Arena champion for a fight to the death. If, by some miracle, they managed to defeat their gladiator opponent, they could go free, all crimes forgiven. Bet you can guess how often that happened?_

_I don't know how, but our group had been found out. We were attacked. Aegis got most of us into ships we'd been preparing for this possibility and we escaped. But only for the moment. Tyrant warships pursued us. And like the Animechs before us, we tried to use the White Hole to escape our pursuers. Only to be drawn in. Five ships left Mecha Terra with all that had time to board. One made it to Earth. Most of the crew that survived the journey through the White Hole, died when we crashed into the ocean. The ten of us here are all that are left._

Hound leaned back in his seat, drained from reliving the memories.

Lucy clutched her mug of coffee, long grown cold. She blinked and set it down. She felt horrible for Hound, for having suffered and lost so much. She stood and walked over to the green mech that looked up, confused by her action. He was even more confused when she put her arms around him and gave him a hug.

"What are you doing?" Hound tried to twist around to look her in the face without hurting her with his alt form kibble. Wide optics stared up at her, disconcerted frown on his face, as though everything he thought he knew had just been blown out of the water.

"Giving you a hug, silly. It's what we do on Earth to show someone we care." Lucy released him and stood by his chair.

Hound looked up at the human femme watching him with concern and gave her a small smile. "Thank you. For the hug and for listening. As hard as it was to say some of that, I feel better not having to hide it anymore." His smile widened and he straightened up, looking like a huge weight had been lifted off of him.

Lucy couldn't help but smile too. Hound was amazing; to have gone through so much and still be so positive, it boggled her mind.

"Now that I've told you my life story, tell me yours. Fair's fair." Hound waved her back over to her chair, chuckling at the momentary look of horror that crossed her face.

"You've got me there, Hound. All right. But it's not even close to being as exciting as yours," Lucy conceded.

"Excitement is overrated. Trust me," Hound replied as he leaned forward to listen eagerly to the description of a life unlike anything he's ever known.


	8. 08: Floor

**DISCLAIMERS:** I don't own Transformers. They just came over from Hasbro to visit and be general pains-in-the-aft. All the humans in the story are mine, as are Steelshot and Sola. Rating is T for now, may go up at anytime.

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:** These stories are character sketches I'm writing to get a feel for some of the NPCs in a Mechamorphosis game I'm creating. I started this to give myself some back-story and origins to the characters in my other Encounter fics. I'm following one of the tables from the 100situations challenge on LJ, which I'm planning on registering for real soon. As soon as I can figure out how to link that table… headdesk.

A cookie to anyone who can guess the movie this scene was loosely based on. ;D

**Special thanks go out to Okami-chan for beta reading these for me and finding my typos and grammar errors. **

* * *

"Come on Blue, you can do this. Try again."

"Sides, I don't know. I'm no good at this stuff and I don't want to hurt anyone and –"

A bright yellow hand covered his vocal output, cutting off the rest of his ramble. Glittering blue optics fixed him with a steely gaze.

"Try again." Sunstreaker's tone left no room for argument.

Bluestreak sighed hopelessly and squared off against Jazz again.

Sideswipe tried offering some advice. "You just got to focus. Don't think of it as fighting Jazz. Think of it as fighting… uh, say… how about those guards you told me about? Pretend you're looking at them."

Bluestreak shivered. "I don't really want to think about that, Sides."

Sideswipe continued. "Imagine they're coming for you again, only this time you know what to do."

"Sides…"

Sideswipe continued, ignoring how upset the younger mech was getting. "They're coming for you Blue," his voice a hoarse, menacing whisper. "They are coming and nobody is going to stop them. They are going to do whatever they want to you and they are going to laugh and enjoy it…"

Bluestreak and Jazz listened to him speak in a sort of horrified daze; their attention focused on Sideswipe. So no one noticed Sunstreaker as he casually strolled up behind Jazz and gave him a hard shove towards Bluestreak and yelled out an Arena battle cry. Jazz gave a startled yelp as he stumbled forward.

Bluestreak, still mostly in the stance the twins were trying to teach him, yelled too and struck out at Jazz. He executed the move flawlessly. His arm drew back, fist clenching. Then shooting forward to strike the base of Jazz's companion compartment. Bluestreak's opposite leg kicked out towards Jazz's knee. Other arm swinging, his other fist clenched, he struck a swift blow to the temple. The larger mech stumbled back and fell in a heap.

Sideswipe grinned at Bluestreak and Sunstreaker nodded encouragingly. Bluestreak stood bent over, hands on his knees, drawing large gulps of air into his intakes, trying to calm and cool his frantic systems.

Echoes of pounding feet on metal preceded Ratchet as he ran in. "What the frag is all the yelling about – JAZZ!"

Jazz hadn't moved from his heap. Ratchet rushed over to him.

"Jazz! Are you all right? Say something!" Ratchet gently rolled him onto his back.

"Uuuhhh? Ratch?" Jazz twitched a bit and looked up at the white medic.

"That's it kid. Now, can you tell me where you are?" Ratchet smiled encouragingly at him.

"On the floor," Jazz deadpanned weakly. He smiled as he was rewarded with a chorus of groans.


	9. 45: Animal

**DISCLAIMERS:** I don't own Transformers. They just came over from Hasbro to visit and be general pains-in-the-aft. All the humans in the story are mine, as are Steelshot and Sola. Rating is T for now, may go up at anytime.

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:** These stories are character sketches I'm writing to get a feel for some of the NPCs in a Mechamorphosis game I'm creating. I started this to give myself some back-story and origins to the characters in my other Encounter fics. I'm following one of the tables from the 100situations challenge on LJ, which I'm planning on registering for real soon. As soon as I can figure out how to link that table… headdesk.

No one got the rather vague movie reference in the last chapter. Just for reference, the movie was The Best of the Best, which is an awesome martial arts movie. The sequels suck big time but what can you do.

In order for my game to move forward and contain a few surprises, not to mention, my storyline, I'm going to need a few OCs. I know not everyone likes OCs, but bear with me, I need to develop them to interact with the main characters. And I like to think they are interesting characters in their own right, but I'm just biased. ;D

**Special thanks go out to Okami-chan for beta reading these for me and finding my typos and grammar errors. **

* * *

It was another bright and sunny day in the city of Craxton on Mecha Terra. A day when most mechs would pause for a moment and bask in the warm solar bounty.

Steelshot was not most mechs.

Steelshot ducked as he ran, plasma bursts striking mere millimeters from his head. He spotted a maintenance alleyway up ahead and sprinted for it, desperation giving him an extra burst of speed. Angry shouts behind him demanded that he stop and surrender, roaring over the pounding of their feet on the metal walkways.

Surrender? And be sentenced to death in the Arena? Nuh-uh.

He skidded around the corner, systems alerts cluttering his HUD. Fliers weren't meant to run like this but between his busted up wing and the aerial search, flying wasn't an option. So he had to ignore them. He frantically dashed down the alley following the twists and turns. So intent on outpacing his hunters, he nearly ran into the wall, as his escape route became a dead end.

Steelshot cursed as he looked for somewhere to go or someplace to hide. Refuse and scrap littered the ground. An overflowing bin that had long been forgotten sat nearby. In desperation, he squeezed into a gap between it and the wall, hoping they would think he flew out of there. Somehow. Small glinks, annoying little scavengers of fuels and metals, squeaked and beeped at him in fear and irritation as they scattered. He had apparently taken their hiding place. He cursed again. Their squeaking would give him away and there was nothing he could do about it.

He crouched there, tense, audios trained on the approaching pursuit. So intent was he, he missed the soft rustling and clanking coming from within the bin.

"Look at all these glinks! Gah, disgusting things!"

"Something is around here. It's not us disturbing them. Spread out and search."

Steelshot braced himself; so much for any sense of dignity, getting caught cowering behind a refuse bin.

"You sure he's here? He might have just flown out." Steelshot could sense them scanning the area, the static bursts pinging off his passive scanners. He hoped the bin disguised his nexus signature.

"Something is here. Now stop whining and look!"

Grumbling, the hunter mech started kicking at the scrap, knocking it around to presumably look underneath. His superior gave a snort of contempt and walked towards the refuse bin, steps echoing loudly in the alleyway.

Steelshot held himself perfectly still, not even cycling his air intakes. He cringed at the creaks as the hunter mech threw open the lid of the bin to look inside.

A black shadow roared and leapt out of the bin, bowling the startled mech over.

"Aaahhh!!" he shrieked. Sharp claws scrabbled at his armor and fangs snapped at his face. He struggled with it, wings beating at his head. "Get it off me!!"

The other hunter fired off a quick plasma burst. The creature gave a pained yelp and Steelshot heard desperate scrabbling, as if it had released the senior hunter to turn tail and try to run. A second shot sounded out, blowing it clear across the alley, followed by a thud as it hit the wall. It crashed to the ground and lay still, just a couple of meters in front of Steelshot.

"Did it damage you?" From the scuffling and creaking coming from the alley, Steelshot guessed the second hunter mech had helped his superior up.

"Superficial. Let's go. We know what set the glinks scurrying now. The fugitive has eluded us." They left, footsteps echoing hollowly on the metal street covering.

Steelshot could hardly believe his luck. He stayed where he was for a time, partly from disbelief in his turn in fortune, partly out of caution. A soft whimper from in front of him finally drew him from his hiding place. Glancing down the alley to be sure his pursuers were actually gone, he made his way over to where the beast lay.

It was far too dirty to determine its colors from a casual glance but they were dark. It leaked from two wounds where the plasma bursts connected; one on its back between its wings and the other on its flank. It tried to drag itself in to a defensive stance but it was too damaged to stop him from picking it up. It was pretty small, compared to him, all tail, neck and wings. It tried to bite him but was too weak; he could tell its teeth were sharp anyways.

It? She. He could sense the femme programming now. Strange. Stranger than her form, which itself was odd. Quadruped with wings, long neck and triangular snout. Mouth full of fangs and a long tail. Rubbing off some of the grime on its neck, he could see a mark from someone in the Science Guild. At least that explained her a bit. An escaped experiment or a culled one that survived. Though why someone would spark a beast and give it femme programming was beyond him.

No matter, he owed this femme beast his life and freedom, even if it was inadvertent. Let no one say that Steelshot was without gratitude.

"Come my fierce little femme. We'll get you repaired and see what you can do. You belong to Steelshot now and I feel we'll do great things together."

Cradling his new companion, who had fallen unconscious from fluid loss, Steelshot made his way out of the alleyway and into the falling night.


	10. 79: Winter

**DISCLAIMERS:** I don't own Transformers. They just came over from Hasbro to visit and be general pains-in-the-aft. All the humans in the story are mine, as are Steelshot and Sola. Rating is T for now, may go up at anytime.

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:** These stories are character sketches I'm writing to get a feel for some of the NPCs in a Mechamorphosis game I'm creating. I started this to give myself some back-story and origins to the characters in my other Encounter fics. I'm following one of the tables from the 100situations challenge on LJ, which I'm planning on registering for real soon. As soon as I can figure out how to link that table… headdesk

More Author's Note at the end. Trust me. It will explain a lot. Companion fic to Trap.

**Special thanks go out to Okami-chan for beta reading these for me and finding my typos and grammar errors. **

79 – Winter

Jazz stood in the solarium and watched the snow come down, lightly dusting the windows, and turning the dark, grungy streets into a beautiful wonderland, full of promise instead of lacking all hope.

Though it was warm inside the solarium, Jazz knew that the temperature was dropping rapidly outside. None of them had ever experienced anything like it before. Gwen had tried to explain basic weather systems to them, but quickly gave up and dragged Ratchet, Perceptor and Slipstone to the library, so they could figure it out for themselves. Jazz chuckled, recalling the poor woman's rather chaotic and disjointed attempt to explain something she didn't really understand herself. What he did get out of it was that they were entering the cold season for this location and it was rather on the long side.

Mecha Terra had had seasons as well. Every plant that orbited a star certainly did. They just weren't as…dramatic…as here on Earth.

It had been the cold season when he was first brought online, his manufacture commissioned by the Communicator's Guild. He smiled as he thought back to the rather baffled look on the Animech tech's face when Jazz had announced his name and function. Controllers weren't common and were never planned for. The quirk of programming that set a Controller apart was one that couldn't be duplicated. Not on purpose anyways.

There was also another cold season he remembered, a more bittersweet memory.

--

As a member of the Communicators Guild, it was his job and duty to maintain and monitor the communications network on Mecha Terra. A network head end went down in a remote lower level and Jazz and his Companions, Rewind and Eject, were dispatched to repair it. While he replaced the burned out circuit boards with Eject, he sent Rewind to check on the lines further along. Rewind detected an odd sound in the access way and went to investigate it.

Jazz shuddered as he looked through Rewind's optics.

A green and brown mech, strapped to a table, screamed as his life energy was drained from him. His captors/torturers stood around him, coldly watching him die, calmly discussing how much energy they would get from him and the condition of his soon to be spare parts.

Horrified, Jazz didn't think as he ran down the corridors to where that terrible room lay. He overpowered the lone guard before the poor mech knew what hit him and, using the inexplicable ability all Controllers had, channeled his 'sound and light show' through Rewind, sending all the occupants of the room into confusion.

Rewind slipped down and opened the door, letting Jazz and Eject inside. Eject watched down the hall while Jazz went straight for the mech on the table. He was still alive but mercifully unconscious. Jazz unstrapped him and easily scooped him up. They hurriedly left before the confusion wore off. Eject took point, scouting out safe routes and Rewind watched for any pursuers behind them. They avoided three Tyrant patrols that were hunting them.

All the official and reserved communication channels were jammed with messages and he could hear the carrier signal that meant the public channels were being monitored. Jazz couldn't risk a call to the Guild Quarters or take the mech there in person. He also couldn't wait until things had quieted down. The mech in Jazz's arms didn't have time; his nexus energy was slowly leaking away, even though he was no longer hooked to the awful machine. He needed medical attention or Jazz's rescue would be for naught.

Options dwindling, Jazz made his way to the surface, using back access ways and forgotten tunnels only Communicators knew about. He came to light in a shadowy alleyway and hid there, cradling the unknown mech, while Eject and Rewind scouted for a medic nearby.

Jazz sat and gazed sadly at the strange mech in his arms. It made his spark ache in ways he didn't understand that this stranger had suffered so badly at the hands of their rulers. He also ached over the fact that he had only been able to save one; the image of the bins of partially disassembled mechs would haunt him forever.

Jazz sent a silent 'Hurry up!' to his Companions. He got an impatient 'I'm doing the best I can, Boss!' from Rewind. From Eject however, he received a baited, 'Wait a sec.' Jazz tensed, not daring to hope. An excited 'We're coming!' quickly followed.

Even though he was expecting someone to come, Jazz still tensed when he heard the heavy footsteps and the gruff voice.

"Where the frag are we headed anyways? You sure there is someone back here?" A boxy white mech rounded the corner with Eject on his shoulder. He started in shock when he saw Jazz cradling the green mech. "Sweet Nexus! What happened?" He knelt in front of Jazz and started scanning the unconscious mech.

"Don't worry Boss, area is clean and clear," Eject assured Jazz, jumping down from the medic's shoulder and scooting out of the way.

Jazz nodded and redirected Rewind to scout around and watch for trouble. A little extra caution couldn't hurt. He looked up at the mech that Eject had brought. He was smaller than Jazz, making him average size for a mech, mainly white with red accent. His mouth was turned down with a grim look and his optics were bright with worry.

"I'm going to want an explanation later. Right now, we don't have time." The medical mech stood, took a couple steps back and transformed, opening the hatch to his cargo space. "Load him up."

Jazz called Rewind back as he carefully laid the green mech into the cargo space. He then transformed into his smaller, signal booster alt form, which Eject placed into the cargo space beside the mech, and then transformed himself into his data card alt form, sliding into his usual slot in Jazz. Rewind arrived moments later and joined him, transforming and slipping into the adjacent slot.

The medic closed his hatch and drove off. Not a moment too soon. Rewind reported some strange mechs, who weren't Guardians, wandering and casually poking around and asking questions. Looking for them.

The drive to the medic's office was thankfully short and silent. Upon arrival, the white medic pulled directly into his operating room, opened his cargo hatch and only said, "Place him on the table."

They unloaded and put the mech on the table. Jazz watched the medic transform and found himself shooed out into a waiting area before he realized what was happening. He exchanged a concerned glance with his Companions before settling down to wait.

The next thing Jazz knew he was being shaken out of stasis rest. The shoulder he had been leaning on had developed a short and was sending him static and weird sensor data. He rubbed at it and rotated the joint to try to rid himself of the feeling. The medic looked at him with dim, tired optics.

"How is he?" Jazz inquired, tiredly. He checked his chronometer and was startled to see it was the next day.

"Stable, for now. It was touch and go for a while, which brings us back to what happened to him. I've never seen anything like it before and I've been a doctor and scientist for vorns before you were created. Communicate with me, mech." The medic sat down across from Jazz.

Jazz grimaced. "That joke was old vorns before you were created. I don't know too much and I'm not really sure how much I should tell you."

"Start from the beginning, Communicator. I'm sworn to patient confidentiality."

"I don't know. I don't want to put you in danger." Jazz had a sinking feeling in his tanks that it was far too late.

"I'm already in danger for helping this much. At least let me know how deep I'm in." The boxy white medic gave him a hard, narrow opticked look from beneath his gray chevron.

"Frag," Jazz glared at the floor, angry with himself.

A red hand appeared on his shoulder and Jazz looked up to find himself gazing into compassionate, blue optics.

"You did the right thing. But this is very obviously much bigger than you can handle alone. I can help you, if you will just trust me."

Jazz was torn, but the medic was right. He did need help; needed to trust someone. "I'm Jazz and this is Rewind and Eject." Jazz pointed to each of his Companions in turn.

"And your green friend?"

"I don't know. We've never been properly introduced."

The medic glanced down, as if appealing to the Great Generator for assistance. He sighed as he looked back up at Jazz. "You'd better start from the beginning."

"Alright, Constructor…" Jazz trailed off significantly.

"Nexus, and here I am pestering you for names. I'm Ratchet, Senior Constructor." He held up his hand, palm out.

Jazz touched his palm with his own, completing the greeting.

Ratchet stood and headed for a door on the opposite side of the room, motioning Jazz and his companions to follow. "Come on, you can tell me over a couple of canisters. If you need to recharge half as badly as I do, you're running on empty."

Jazz followed him and sat down in the comfortable living area, gratefully accepting the canister of fuel. He related his adventure to Ratchet, who listened quietly, optics glowing and mouth slightly open in horror. When Jazz was done, they sat in silence; Ratchet in deep thought, Jazz apprehensive. He would be so slagged if Ratchet contacted the authorities.

After a few breems of the tense silence, Ratchet looked Jazz in the optic band. "How are you planning on hiding him? I'm assuming you are planning on taking care of him, since you are still here."

"Huh? Oh. I haven't really thought that far ahead. Things have been moving rather fast."

"I have an idea, if you don't mind me asking you a rather personal question."

Jazz stared confused at the medic for a long moment. Unable to figure out what Ratchet was talking about, he tentatively responded. "No… go ahead."

"How close are you to budding?"

Jazz was a little taken aback. "That's a very personal question, Ratchet. Even between Controllers."

Ratchet held up his hands apologetically. "I'm sorry but please hear me out. This could save all your afts. I'm going to have to rebuild our green friend anyways. His nexus generator was drained too much. He can't survive in a frame his current size. If he's rebuilt smaller, he'll recover, given time. If you are as close to budding as I'm guessing you are, hold off and pass him off as your new Companion. It'll give him a safe place to hide and recover and you, an explanation for your absence."

"How do you even know that much about Controllers? We have to go see a specialist when we need medical attention. Most medics don't want to even attempt the most basic repairs on us."

"As I said, I'm a Senior Constructor. I train apprentices and have taught advanced courses for specialization. I probably know more about Controllers than you do."

Jazz leaned back in his seat and mulled it over. He was surprised that Ratchet knew so much about Controllers and the idea had appeal. He looked over at his two Companions, sipping their own canisters, silently inquiring their opinions.

They smiled at him, nodding. The idea intrigued them as well.

Jazz turned back to Ratchet. "We'll do it."

"You have a very generous spark, Jazz," Ratchet smiled approvingly at him. "We'll go bring him online and run the idea past him."

They stood and returned to the operating room where the green mech lay in stasis. Ratchet him brought online and asked him his name.

He identified himself as an Explorer called Lightfoot. He and his crewmates had been called in for another mission but instead of being sent to space, they had been betrayed and their energy drained from them. His voice broke as he spoke to them, from both weakness and grief over lost friends. His frame trembled weakly in grief and fear.

Jazz explained how he had rescued him and what he had seen. Lightfoot thanked him. He didn't remember anything about it, even while he was still conscious, having been beyond noticing anything but his pain.

Ratchet explained his situation and options, that he must be rebuilt into a smaller frame or permanently go offline. He also explained, with Jazz's assistance, their idea for hiding him until it was safe.

Lightfoot readily agreed, to both the rebuild and the plan. He knew he didn't have much choice.

--

A light touch on his leg brought Jazz out of his musings. He looked down at Hound, the green mech once called Lightfoot that he had rescued so long ago, who pretended to be his Companion and who missed Rewind and Eject as badly as he did.

"You were worlds away," Hound said softly. "A penny for your thoughts?"

"Just reflecting on the seasons, Hound," Jazz replied. "Humans use them as metaphors."

"Metaphors? What do you mean, Jazz?"

"Well, for example, to humans, Spring represents new life and beginnings. For me, it's Winter."

**Author's Note P2:** Just to make things clear to everyone. Jazz isn't a car in my fanfics, he's like Blaster or Soundwave. I had gone through the list of characters I'd like to use and decided on Jazz as one, but needed someone to counter Soundwave. So Jazz became that mech.

And Jazz isn't pregnant. cringes Not even close. He's a Controller, which means, as he grows in experience and maturity, he can create more Companions or enhance his existing ones. And I used the "budding" method as the most likely one. This is straight from the G2 comics. Why make something up when borrowing from canon is so much easier?

Still working on my main story Close Encounter. Almost done that except for the human bits. Argh! Those always take the longest to write. Got a bunch more half done. Now if only I had more time.


	11. 96: Exile

**DISCLAIMERS:** I don't own Transformers. They just came over from Hasbro to visit and be general pains-in-the-aft. All the humans in the story are mine, as are Steelshot and Sola. Rating is T for now, may go up at anytime.

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:** These stories are character sketches I'm writing to get a feel for some of the NPCs in a Mechamorphosis game I'm creating. I started this to give myself some back-story and origins to the characters in my other Encounter fics. I'm following one of the tables from the 100situations challenge on LJ, which I'm planning on registering for real soon. As soon as I can figure out how to link that table… headdesk.

**Special thanks go out to Okami-chan for beta reading these for me and finding my typos and grammar errors. **

* * *

#96 – Writer's Choice – Exile

Once Ratchet had cleaned off all the paint and calmed down somewhat, having put Bluestreak and Sideswipe to work cleaning up the mess, he joined Aegis in the "command center." The command center, as they jokingly called it, was just another dusty room at the end of the hall. The difference was it still had some furniture in usable shape.

They settled down into the least broken chairs and Aegis made introductions. "Ratchet, I'd like you to meet my Guild brother, Prowl." Aegis indicated the white and black mech with him. "Prowl, this is Ratchet, one of my oldest friends."

Prowl nodded politely in greeting. "Aegis has spoken highly of you, Scientist Ratchet."

"Just Ratchet is fine. I don't go for formal titles, as I'm sure Aegis has mentioned as well." Ratchet nodded his greeting back.

Aegis got down to business. "Alright, with the kids busy, we can discuss what we came here for."

"What is it, Aegis? You said you needed my expertise," Ratchet inquired.

"Prowl and I have been discussing a few things about this movement. Prowl?"

Prowl nodded to Aegis and turned so he was facing them both. "As despicable as our Tyrant rulers are, they are also cautious and thorough," he paused, glancing from one mech to the other.

Ratchet tilted his head, optics narrowing. He didn't see what Prowl was getting at. He crossed his arms in annoyance. "Meaning?" He prompted.

"Meaning that if we haven't been infiltrated yet, we certainly will be. And once enough evidence is gathered or created against us, we will be captured and put to death in the Arena," Prowl responded.

Stunned, Ratchet stared at him. "Nexus…"

Prowl nodded grimly. "It would be especially bad for the 'kids' as Aegis calls them. And us, as the leaders."

Ratchet turned to Aegis, annoyed and confused. "And you needed my expertise for this?"

"No Ratchet, I need your expertise for a contingency plan." Aegis was grim as well.

"What sort of plan?" Ratchet demanded of him. If Aegis had dragged him into this just to scare the scrap out of him… But he couldn't blame this one on his friend. He had walked into this with all scanners on full the moment he let those gladiators in. Not that he could have turned away a mech in need.

Prowl answered instead. "You are the top medical mechanic on Mecha Terra, and a highly respected scientist. You have friends and colleagues in your guild and associated guilds that would perhaps feel the same as we do and are trustworthy. We'll need to tap their processing power and their expertise to make this work."

"Once we are infiltrated, nowhere on Mecha Terra will be safe for us. Therefore, to preserve ourselves, we must find a place that is," Aegis added.

Ratchet mulled this over. "You mean go into exile, like the Animechs did, when the Tyrants first come into power." The Animech Guild had been the most vocal against granting the Tyrants the uncontested leadership role they now enjoyed. Outvoted by the other Guilds, they had left Mecha Terra, never to be seen again.

"Exactly." Prowl smiled, pleased that Ratchet was able to grasp the solution so quickly.

"And you need me to recruit some of my colleagues to get the ships built," Ratchet concluded.

"Yes. We are starting this early, to hopefully preserve what secrecy we hope we still enjoy. The later we leave it, the greater chance for discovery and sabotage." Aegis leaned forward, clasping his hands before him. Ratchet had never seen his friend looking so stern.

"Yes, then all us exiles will be Arena fodder," Ratchet groused.

"Yes. And that is probably an accurate name for our group. Seeing as we come from a wide variety of Guilds and backgrounds." Prowl looked thoughtful.

"What is an accurate name, Prowl?" Aegis inquired as Ratchet looked at white and black mech curiously.

"The Exiles."


	12. 63: Whisper

**DISCLAIMERS:** I don't own Transformers. They just came over from Hasbro to visit and be general pains-in-the-aft. All the humans in the story are mine, as are Steelshot and Sola. Rating is T for now, may go up at anytime.

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:** These stories are character sketches I'm writing to get a feel for some of the NPCs in a Mechamorphosis game I'm creating. I started this to give myself some back-story and origins to the characters in my other Encounter fics. I'm following one of the tables from the 100situations challenge on LJ, which I'm planning on registering for real soon. As soon as I can figure out how to link that table… headdesk.

In order for my game to move forward and contain a few surprises, not to mention, my storyline, I'm going to need a few OCs. I know not everyone likes OCs, but bear with me, I need to develop them to interact with the main characters. And I like to think they are interesting characters in their own right, but I'm just biased. ;D

This is the last Previous Encounters chapter I have prewritten. I'm hoping to get more done after I get the next chapter of Close Encounter posted. Finished writing it, now just have to polish my incredibly bad grammar with my beta reader. She's slowly teaching me better grammar proving that yes, old dragons can learn new tricks. ;)

**Special thanks go out to Okami-chan for beta reading these for me and finding my typos and grammar errors. **

* * *

Title: #63 - Whisper  
Ratings: General  
Summary: Set in my AU. Pre-Earth. All OCs mine. Sequel to Animal.

Steelshot stirred and came out of stasis rest. Something nagged at him, making it impossible for him to rest. He opened his optic guard blearily and cycled his sensors to maximum sensitivity.

There it was again! That noise!

It was a soft, whispering sound that teased him at the edge of his audio range. It was going to drive him crazy if he didn't figure out what was causing it. He glanced across the dusty room at his companion. The dragon still stood guard, watching out the window, as he had trained her to do. Sort of. She swayed back and forth, shifting her weight from her right side to her left. Her tail swished lightly and her neck swayed gracefully. Steelshot stared. Even her webbed wings moved; everything was in an odd, synchronous rhythm. She couldn't be dancing. Could she?

Steelshot got up, moving slowly and silently with the ease of long practice. The dragon faced away from him, watching out of the entrance of their hiding place. She didn't notice him approach.

Now that he was standing over her, he knew where the soft noise was coming from. Incredibly, she hummed a popular tune, one she doubtlessly heard multiple times at the various clubs they did business in. He was amazed. Solataire, or Sola for short, was obviously more intelligent than he had previously credited her. Sneaky little glitch was holding out on him!

"Sola!" he whispered harshly, not daring to shout. He didn't want his voice to carry beyond the small room in the abandoned building they were hiding in.

"Yipe!" Sola leapt straight up in fright. She yelped again, as Steelshot's hands closed around her. Her tail thrashed and wings fluttered, then both tucked tightly around her body as she settled into a steady whimper.

Steelshot shook his head. So much for being fierce. He glanced out the window and looked around at the streets outside to make sure her yelping and whimpering hadn't attracted any attention and pulled her back with him further into the room. He held her up in front of his face and gave her a peeved look. She cringed and wouldn't meet his optics.

"You're holding out on me," he growled.

"Nah…nuh…uh uh," she shook her head in denial. This was the first time she had answered him directly and verbally.

"Oh really? If you can talk, why didn't you say something before? Save yourself some pain." Steelshot hated being made a fool of, especially by a beast.

"Na-nu-not know before. Learn. Still learn." she stammered.

Steelshot eyed her suspiciously, searching for a sign of deception. Then he grinned wickedly. If he couldn't tell she was sentient and intelligent, then certainly, neither could anyone else. This had possibilities.

"Still learn, huh? Well, it appears we're going to have to alter your training somewhat."

The little dragon meekly raised her head, red optics shining and wide with the hope that she might not be in trouble after all.

"Not mad?" she asked.

"Very mad," he told her. Her neck drooped and she avoided his optics again. "But I'll forgive you, as long as you show me when you learn a new trick."

She looked up hopefully at him, arching her neck and brightening considerably when she saw he was sincere. "Can show tricks! Do good!" Her wings flapped and tail swished in her excitement and eagerness to please.

"Excellent. We'll find somewhere private with more room and take a look at your tricks. After that," Steelshot smirked. "We'll start teaching you some new ones."


	13. 28: Deliver

**DISCLAIMERS:** I don't own Transformers. They just came over from Hasbro to visit and be general pains-in-the-aft. All the humans in the story are mine, as are Steelshot and Sola. Rating is T for now, may go up at anytime.

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:** These stories are character sketches I'm writing to get a feel for some of the NPCs in a Mechamorphosis game I'm creating. I started this to give myself some back-story and origins to the characters in my other Encounter fics. I'm following one of the tables from the 100situations challenge on LJ, which I'm planning on registering for real soon. As soon as I can figure out how to link that table… -headdesk-.

Finally finished! I swear, Bluestreak got scared or shy and disappeared for a while, taking all his bunnies with him. Not sure if I should put warnings on this one; nothing happens but I imply a lot.

**Special thanks go out to Okami-chan for beta reading these for me and finding my typos and grammar errors. More thanks goes out to tomorrow4eva for being my most prolific reviewer. It gives me warm fuzzies to know people are reading and enjoying my stories.**

* * *

Title: #28 - Deliver  
Ratings: T  
Summary: Set in my AU. Pre-Earth. All OCs mine. Prequel to Prison.

Bluestreak sped down the streets of Velocitron. He had to quickly finish this delivery, there were a lot of pickups still to do and they were short-staffed. Bluestreak's spark fluttered with anxiety and worry. So many of his Guild brothers had been arrested and he just didn't understand why. He skidded to an abrupt stop and hurriedly transformed. He hoped he wasn't too late with his package.

He bounded up the steps to his destination and rapidly drowned out the complaints of the mech he gave the package to under his rapid-fire apologies and explanations and 'that he really had to go now.' As he dashed out of the building, he reflected on how much like his fast-talking Guild brother, Blurr, he sounded. He dodged skillfully around surprised mechs and completely skipped the stairs in one agile jump.

He jumped into a break in traffic, transforming on the run. He had to hurry back to headquarters; there were a lot of packages waiting for delivery. He hoped Allegro would be there when he arrived. His mentor and Guild Leader had been out of contact for a few days and everyone was worried.

Bluestreak skidded to a halt at the entrance of the Courier Guildhall, transforming so fast he tripped over his feet and landed in an undignified sprawl. He started getting up, hoping he hadn't gotten too dirty or scuffed up this time. "Ah, fraggit," he muttered. Charger was going to tease him again for sure.

Bluestreak had an unexpected assist as a hand roughly grabbed his doorwing, hauling him to his feet. He squawked in startled protest and looked around. He found himself standing between two large mechs that looked like something from his stasis nightmares. Optics widening, he worked his mouth a couple of times before he was able to get himself together enough to speak.

"Uhm, thanks for helping me up, I really need to be more careful transforming, I tend to do that a lot. Are you here to have a package delivered? You need to talk to Sparkle at the front desk unless Trike is there instead but you'd probably prefer to talk with Sparkle. She's easier to talk to and…" Bluestreak trailed off his ramble when he noticed the mechs just standing and smirking at him. A cold sensation spiked down his spinal linkage. "Uhm, is there something I can help you with? I can do it quickly, before I get another delivery."

The mechs exchanged an amused look, optics flashing as they chuckled.

"Actually sparklet, you are the next delivery. We're here to deliver you to prison." The orange mech on Bluestreak's right side seized his arm and twisted it behind his back.

"What? Hey! What are you doing? What's going on? Stop!" Bluestreak yelped, door wings trembling in fear. He squirmed, trying to relieve the pain in his arm.

"Stop squirming! You are under arrest for conspiracy and fraud by order of the Tyrant Guild," the other nightmare mech, a red and blue, snarled impatiently at Bluestreak. He cuffed Bluestreak's hands together behind his back.

"Aww, be gentle Gyro, he's a cute one. Don't want to damage him too much. We'll save it for after we get him to the cell block." The orange mech chuckled cruelly as he adjusted his grip on Bluestreak's arm.

"Wait! Stop! I'm innocent! I didn't do anything! Please, you have to believe me!" Bluestreak struggled against the two mechs holding him, thrashing his body about in an attempt to free his arms. He didn't know what was going to happen to him but he was sure it was something horrible.

His pleas fell on deaf audios. The two mechs continued on as if he hadn't spoken. "Rusty, why don't you try thinking with your CPU instead of your linkage software for once?" Gyro, the red and blue shook his head at his companion. He had finished cuffing Bluestreak and held his left arm in a vice-like grip.

"Now where's the fun in that?" Rusty moved to stand in front of Bluestreak and lifted his chin with his free hand. "What a waste sending this one to the Arena. He'd barely last a breem and there are tasks more suitable for him."

Blue squirmed, unable to pull his face away. He couldn't speak; the cruel orange mech's vise-like grip was shorting his vocalizer speaker.

"We're wasting time. That's the last one we needed. Let's get going," Gyro admonished his companion. "We can play later."

A drone truck waited in a nearby alleyway, a secondary transport when the Guild needed to deliver large items. The two mechs dragged Bluestreak over and tossed him inside. He struggled upright, optics adjusting to the lack of light in the cargo space of the truck.

"Oh no, they got Bluestreak too." Sparkle's familiar voice drifted from the gloom behind him. He turned and saw the remaining members of his Guild. His spark sank, he had been hoping he heard the brutes wrong. The engine of the drone truck grumbled to life and drove off. The Couriers tumbled around, vainly trying to keep their balance.

Bluestreak awkwardly made his way over to where Sparkle was sitting and leaned against her shoulder. She laid her head on his, both seeking and offering comfort. No one spoke, everyone was too frightened.

The drone truck eventually jostled to a halt and the cargo doors were opened. The abrupt change in lighting had them all blinking to recalibrate their optics.

"Here they are, the last of the Couriers, Dirge." Bluestreak could hear Rusty's mocking voice outside the cargo space. "Special delivery."

"Excellent. Unload them and we'll 'deliver' them to justice," an unknown voice chuckled. The light tone gave Bluestreak cold surges down his spinal linkage.

Bluestreak huddled closer to Sparkle, hoping Allegro would come and take them home.


	14. 74: Fire

**DISCLAIMERS:** I don't own Transformers. They just came over from Hasbro to visit and be general pains-in-the-aft. All the humans in the story are mine, as are Steelshot and Sola. Rating is T for now, may go up at anytime.

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:** These stories are character sketches I'm writing to get a feel for some of the NPCs in a Mechamorphosis game I'm creating. I started this to give myself some back-story and origins to the characters in my other Encounter fics. I'm following one of the tables from the 100situations challenge on LJ, which I'm planning on registering for real soon. As soon as I can figure out how to link that table… -headdesk-.

**Special thanks go out to Okami-chan for beta reading these for me and finding my typos and grammar errors. The quality of my writing has dramatically improved since she started betaing for me. Also the length of the fics.**

Sorta sequel to the Love chapter.

* * *

**_"I'm on Fire! Fire! For the love that slipped away! I'm on Fire! Fire! For this love!" - from Fire by Haywire._**

The barracks deep within the Arena were usually a quiet place. Gladiators rested here between matches and training sessions. They needed some peace from the frantic pace of the fights, the manoeuvring and manipulations of the owners and the demands of the audience.

Today, unfortunately, peace and quiet were simply not to be found.

"What's with you lately? Snap out of it before you get yourself killed," Sunstreaker emphasized his point with a slap upside Sideswipe's head.

Sideswipe grunted at the slap and sent a warning glare at his brother. Sunstreaker sighed in exasperation. That was the most reaction he'd gotten out of Sideswipe since Crash's first and final match against Truestrike.

Their master hadn't even had that much success. Beatings, threats and even the one time he'd tried bribery didn't elicit so much as a twitch out of the red gladiator. Dusk had taken to threatening Sunstreaker to get Sideswipe to do anything at all. That proved to be a mistake; Dusk couldn't get near either of his slaves without well-armed bodyguards anymore.

"Listen dummy, you got to prepare for your next match. Dusk is sending you out regardless of whether you fight or not." Sideswipe didn't even lift his head; he only shrugged his shoulders. Sunstreaker rubbed his face in frustration.

"Look, it would be really embarrassing if Truestrike kicked your aft out there," Sunstreaker persisted. He loved his twin, even if he didn't show it often, and he didn't want to see him hurt.

Sideswipe suddenly looked up, optics suddenly burning bright with interest he hadn't shown since Crash's death. "Truestrike?" Despite his soft query, his tone leeched all the warmth from the room; Sunstreaker shivered to hear it.

Sunstreaker stared for a long moment at his twin. Had someone snuck into their quarters and reprogrammed him while they were in stasis rest? "Yes, didn't you check the postings? You are scheduled to fight him in the opening match tomorrow night."

Sideswipe nodded, rising off his berth and walking out of the room without a word. Sunstreaker watched him go, feeling strangely reluctant to follow him. He made it as far as the doorway, watching the hall lights glint off the red armour as Sideswipe rounded the corner and vanished from his visual field. The vacant feelings Sunstreaker had come to associate with his twin had been replaced with something colder and more sinister. He shivered again and forced himself to follow.

Finding Sideswipe didn't take a master tracker. One only needed to look for the frightened and unnerved gladiators. Following that trail, he finally caught up to Sideswipe in the training hall, working with a pair of power swords. The other gladiators in the room kept giving him wary glances and stayed as far away as possible. Sunstreaker could overhear the two closest gladiators, Blackblade and Gravedigger, whispering by the weapon racks that occupied the wall near the door.

"Thank the Generator he's here," Gravedigger whispered, fiddling with the settings of his power blade.

"Yes, he'll know how to handle him," Blackblade whispered back, fingers clumsy as he attempted to change the power pack in his force sword's hilt.

Sunstreaker walked past them, pretending he hadn't heard, an odd feeling gnawing at him. He couldn't quite place it; he'd heard those same whispers hundreds of times. This time however, they sighed with relief at Sunstreaker's appearance. Usually the other gladiators would be glad to see Sideswipe because Sunstreaker would need handling.

He stood on the edge of the mat, just out of range of the swords Sideswipe wielded, watching him. Sideswipe moved with his usual gracefulness. Standard routine, basic moves. So why was he getting chills down his spinal linkage?

0o0o0o0

Night of the match, Sunstreaker cursed and rubbed the finger joints on his left hand. Fragging idiots! They should know better by now than to crowd him. Three glitches and at least triple the scratches! He sighed as he glared around him, ready to pound the next gladiator that got too close. No helping it, he supposed. Everyone jostled for a place near the window in the observation room so they could watch Sideswipe get scrapped. Sunstreaker snarled a warning at the nearest mechs then turned back to the Arena, looking at the lone mech that stood there.

Sixty feet of black, blue and silver metal, Truestrike made an impressive sight. Light danced over his frame as he posed and strutted, force-glaive held high, playing up to the crowd. Sunstreaker watched him strut about the ring with contempt. Truestrike was a boot-licking bully that had the fighting skills of a maintenance drone. Only reason that slagger had won any matches was his size. At four times the height of most gladiators, it stacked the odds distinctly in his favour.

The far gate opened and several guards shoved a red figure out. The mech staggered and fell to one knee. Head bowed, he didn't move, looking more like one of those pathetic wretches sent to the Arena for punishment rather than an experienced gladiator. The crowd guffawed, and the betting began in earnest. Sideswipe picked himself up and looked around in a daze.

Sunstreaker ran a hand down his face. Sideswipe looked to have lost whatever fire he'd had during practice yesterday. Turned back into a vacant automaton.

The announcer suddenly blaring over the speakers drowned out the noise of the audience. The reprieve only lasted a moment before the crowd roared with excitement and the announcer had to speak above their volume. "Welcome to another exciting night at the Arena. First up, Truestrike versus Sideswipe in a no holds barred match. Let the battle begin!"

Truestrike chuckled as he watched his much smaller opponent stagger around in a circle. He hefted his force-glaive as he moved forward, the smirk on his face clearly anticipating an easy kill.

The other gladiators started giving Sunstreaker plenty of space, as if suddenly remembering who was the more violent of the twins. Sunstreaker didn't notice their trepidation. He focused solely on the small red figure in the ring.

Truestrike posed and flirted with the audience as he waited for Sideswipe to meander into the center of the ring. When Sideswipe arrived, Truestrike hefted his weapon and stalked towards him.

Sideswipe looked around, tilting his head back and forth, as if fascinated by the spotlights on the ceiling, and unaware of Truestrike's approach.

Truestrike smirked, raising his glaive. The audience gasped and grumbled, unhappy with the apparent brevity of the match. Clean kills just didn't have much entertainment value.

Tense silence filled the observation room. Out of the corner of his optics, Sunstreaker noticed the slight movements the gladiators closest to him made as they kept glancing at him, ready to jump out of the way the instant he snapped. He ignored them and focused his full attention on the small red figure in the ring.

Truestrike hefted his weapon, powering it up and drawing back slowly, setting up for a killing blow. Time seemed to slow down around the two combatants; one staring at the pretty lights, the other poised to kill.

Sunstreaker unconsciously braced himself, as if the coming blow was meant for him, not his oblivious twin. "Sideswipe!" Sunstreaker sent a desperate pulse through their link.

Suddenly, Truestrike swung, force-glaive crackling with excess nexus energy as it flew downward.

CHUNK! The weapon struck, forcefully imbedding itself in the composite flooring. But where was the scream of fear and agony? The screech of severed metal? Truestrike straightened, blinking and looking about the floor around his imbedded weapon. There was nothing bright red to be seen. Not a scrap of metal or drop of fluid. The red gladiator had vanished.

"What the frag!" Sideswipe's sudden disappearance startled Sunstreaker as much as every other spectator. It shouldn't have, not with the twin link. Sunstreaker tentatively reached through the link, out to his other half, anxiously searching for an answering pulse. He encountered only the dark wall they hadn't used since their younger days in the lab. Sunstreaker growled in annoyance and lashed out at it, trying to break through. A trickle of amusement seeped out for a moment, before Sideswipe shut him out once again.

"Hey, dumb aft! I'm up here!" yelled a familiar voice in the ring.

Truestrike blinked, as if he couldn't actually believe his audios, then slowly looked up.

Sunstreaker scowled, feeling a flash of that smirking amusement again. Truestrike wasn't the only one Sideswipe was insulting.

Sideswipe hovered just above him, blue optics bright and glowing, sinister smile on his face. He drew back the glowing force-mace he held in his hand and swung, smashing Truestrike between the optics. WHAP! He connected with enough force to knock the startled mech off his feet. Truestrike landed hard on his back with a resounding thud.

Sideswipe swooped over him, flying figure eights, showing off for the audience.

The crowd went wild. Whoops, screams and cheers filled the Arena.

Sunstreaker gaped, optics wide. Sideswipe could fly? The other gladiators cheered and spoke amongst themselves, a couple bold ones clapping Sunstreaker on the back. Sunstreaker shrugged them off with an absent growl. He needed to concentrate on the match.

While Sideswipe showboated and flirted with the audience, Truestrike had gathered his wits. He started to rise.

CLANG! Sideswipe nailed him in the face with the mace again. Truestrike fell with a deep dent in his left cheek, visible even from the stands. Glittering fluid started to trickle out from an unseen crack; Sunstreaker couldn't tell what it was at this distance. Sideswipe swooped high above the fallen mech. He dove in for another attack, mace held high. No showing off this time. Truestrike screamed as Sideswipe connected with his right shoulder joint. It shattered, bits of metal plating exploding off under the force of the blow.

Sideswipe gracefully landed on the chest of the thrashing jet. He faced away from Sunstreaker, so his expression wasn't visible. It couldn't have been a pleasant look, judging from the growing alarm in Truestrike's widened optics. The audience quieted. Sunstreaker guessed they were on the edge of their seats, waiting for Sideswipe's next move. The gladiators murmured in the background, impressed more with Sideswipe's landing than the sneak attack. Even Sunstreaker was impressed with the landing. Sideswipe couldn't have gotten a lot of practice before hand.

Sideswipe stalked over the heaving chest, towards Truestrike's head and leaned down towards the moaning mech. He waved the mace slowly in front of Truestrike's face, taunting him. Truestrike stilled his thrashing, his one functional hand half raised, his optics going wide in obvious terror. Sideswipe raised the force-mace high above his head. Sunstreaker wondered where he had gotten it; he hadn't been holding it when he was stumbling around the ring. Truestrike made an inarticulate yelp and a desperate grab for the red fighter.

SMASH! Sideswipe brought his weapon down on Truestrike's other shoulder joint, shattering it too. The jet mech shrieked in agony, arching and bucking in pain. He threw Sideswipe off with a single massive jerk, and Sideswipe tumbled to the ring floor in a surprised heap. Sunstreaker sighed, listening to the crowd whooping and cheering. Leave it to his brother to look like an idiot in the ring. He no longer worried about Sideswipe getting killed; Truestrike was helpless on his back with both arms damaged. His wings neatly prevented him from rolling over and getting to his feet, no matter how much he kicked and thrashed.

Sideswipe picked himself up and made a show of dusting himself off. His hands moved provocatively over his plating, not actually touching, just teasing the audience. An automatic movement, taught to them by Dusk, to better entice the audience. Sideswipe stopped abruptly and glanced down at his hands. He quickly snatched up his force-mace and glanced around. Sunstreaker caught a glimpse of Sideswipe's face as he turned around, disgust plain on his handsome features, even at this distance. Sideswipe activated the nexus power within it again and took a running leap, landing back on the still thrashing mech. He somehow kept his balance long enough to aim his mace at Truestrike's face and give him a tiny lick of nexus power. The gladiators behind Sunstreaker muttered to each other in confusion. Sunstreaker put his hands on the window sill, staring at his brother, as confused as everyone else. Sideswipe only had to knock Truestrike unconscious for the match to be over. That tiny blast of power did nothing more than focus Truestrike's attention on his brother. Sunstreaker shivered, chilled to his nexus core by the sensations leaking through the block Sideswipe had on their link. What the frag was he doing?

Truestrike stopped his thrashing and stared at his smaller opponent, optics wide. Small tremors wracked his frame. The crowd muttered, just as confused as the gladiators and Sunstreaker himself. The yellow twin couldn't help but smirk a little though; Dusk must be having a fit up in the owner's box.

Sideswipe laughed, the nasty sound filling the almost silent Arena. He backed up slowly, moving down the sky blue chest plates and stopping in the middle of the fallen gladiator's chest. He lifted up both arms, force-mace still sparking in one fist and turned slowly, looking up into the audience. He paused slightly when he faced the windows of the observation room and over the distance, Sunstreaker would swear their optics met briefly. The moment stretched, forever but not long enough. Sideswipe's block on their link partially dropped, enough that Sunstreaker felt with cold certainty exactly what his twin intended to do. Sunstreaker stumbled back in shock, falling to one knee. "Sides! Nexus, don't! No! He's not worth it! Fraggit, stop him! Someone stop him!"

Sunstreaker's motion broke their optic contact and time moved forward again. Scrambling up and shoving away well meaning colleagues, he looked out into the Arena to see Sideswipe now facing the owner's box. The red warrior pointed his mace at the box. The blocks Sideswipe had erected came crashing down, fully opening his spark to his twin. Sunstreaker fell to his knees again, rocked by the heat of his twin's rage and hate over their bond. He gripped the window ledge, unable to see outside of the twin link. He felt hands on him, trying to pull him to his feet. Heard voices yelling at him in the distance. One of them sounded suspiciously like his own voice.

Sunstreaker didn't need his optics to see Sideswipe once more raise the force-mace above his head or his audio sensors to hear the horrified shriek Truestrike made. He felt Sideswipe's arm drop, plunging downward, heard the scream of metal as the force-mace penetrated the sky blue plating, vocalizer throbbing from a battle cry not his. The last thing he knew before the mace plunged through Truestrike's Nexus generator and into his spark was Sideswipe's whisper, "This is for Crash."

Then the world went nova.


	15. 68: Smile

**DISCLAIMERS:** I don't own Transformers. They just came over from Hasbro to visit and be general pains-in-the-aft. All the humans in the story are mine, as are Steelshot and Sola. Rating is T for now, may go up at anytime.

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:** These stories are character sketches I'm writing to get a feel for some of the NPCs in a Mechamorphosis game I'm creating. I started this to give myself some back-story and origins to the characters in my other Encounter fics. I'm following one of the tables from the 100situations challenge on LJ, which I'm planning on registering for real soon. As soon as I can figure out how to link that table… -headdesk-.

**Special thanks go out to Okami-chan for beta reading these for me and finding my typos and grammar errors. The quality of my writing has dramatically improved since she started betaing for me. Also the length of the fics.**

* * *

Gwen leaned back against the wall and looked around at the mechs below her. She had a great view from her perch on the high shelf, high even for an Exile. They were all smiling and laughing at Sideswipe, who was regaling them with an anecdote from his Arena days.

Sideswipe had a playful grin, his usual expression. It was startling how fast he could drop the playfulness and to reveal the dark and deadly warrior that lurked just under the surface. You really had to get to know him and look carefully to see that dangerous darkness that lurked within. Or just piss him off in the extreme.

Sunstreaker sat nearby, smirking. He was refusing to confirm or deny the validity of the story Sideswipe told, but from the way his optics glittered, she figured it was a complete fabrication. Sunstreaker was a hard one to get to know, but not as much as most people thought. He was arrogant, vain, self-absorbed and tended to get under your skin in less than a second but Gwen had found him to be incredibly honest as well. Blunt, tactless and obnoxious, but honest. If he had something to say, he usually said it, and didn't worry about the consequences. He was aware of them, he just didn't care.

Bluestreak sat as far from the twins as the seating in the room would allow and kept Prowl between them. Or perhaps Prowl had chosen the seating arrangement to shield Bluestreak. It was sometimes hard to tell with the two. Prowl and Bluestreak, a strange pair. Prowl had taken Bluestreak under his 'door wing', so to speak. A parental figure for the young mech, even if Prowl wasn't all that much older than Bluestreak. They both were smiling quietly at Sideswipe's antics. Prowl, patiently amused. Bluestreak, reluctant but Gwen had seen him stifling a giggle or two.

Aegis stood at the back of the group, a pleased and proud smile on his face. It was one of the rare moments when you could plainly see how much he cared for the other Exiles. It was also the most relaxed she had ever seen him. Gwen figured Prowl had something to do with it. Aegis kept sneaking lingering glances at his white Second.

Jazz sat on the floor with Hound perched on his shoulder and his Companions arrayed comfortably before them. They both laughed hysterically at the red mech, Hound leaning against Jazz's helm. Rubbing her swollen belly thoughtfully, Gwen contemplated the black and white mech and his green shoulder ornament.

Jazz was both the most familiar and most confusing of all the mechs. He seemed to be a parental figure, a mother or father to his little Companions; Gwen couldn't decide which. Hound was like his "adult adopted child". They had a close relationship, more than friendship. It waxed between being a parent/child relationship to a brotherly one. But his "children" or Companions, as they were called, are actually a part of him, an extension of him, in addition to having their own minds and personalities. Where they drew the line between Jazz and themselves, Gwen had no idea.

Hound lounged comfortably on the shoulder of the large mech. He laughed at Sideswipe, obviously enjoying the story despite its dubious truthfulness. He glanced her way now and then, giving her a knowing grin and waving. Her glares just seemed to make him smile wider. He would tilt his head and waggle his finger at her then, as if saying, I warned you. You didn't believe me, but I did warn you. Gwen sighed. Whether she believed him or not was irrelevant and of no help what so ever.

Mirage sat perched on the back of the couch, beside Prowl. He was 'face palming' in disbelief, shaking his head slowly. A quiet, private mech, Mirage didn't talk much and smiled even less. Now it seemed, he couldn't help himself. While he clearly didn't believe a word of Sideswipe's tale, she could see the corner of his lips quirked upwards beside his hand. Not that he cared much for the red warrior's company. Mirage was an odd one, for sure. He seemed to get along well enough with his guide, her husband Brad but Gwen found him painfully polite to her and Andrea.

Perceptor was chuckling quietly, quietly taking in the spectacle and occasionally turning to the mech he sat with to whisper a question or observation. It was surprising to see him out of his lab and socializing. He was the worst workaholic Gwen had ever seen. Perceptor claimed that his work was also his hobby and he found research relaxing. Gwen believed him about as much as the mech that shared the couch with him. She supposed, from the furtive glances he sent her once in a while, her current position had something to do with his presence in the lounge.

In fact, all the Exiles in the room took great pains not to look in her direction. Except for one. Ratchet lounged beside Perceptor, smiling benignly at his comments and questions, while he ingested a can of his latest 'homebrew', turning her way now and then to smirk at her.

Gwen glowered back at him. She was _**so**_ going to get him for this. Forcing her to relax by sticking her up on a high shelf and threatening the rest of the Exiles to keep them from helping her down. She sighed and settled back. She could do nothing about it until one of the other humans came by or her husband got home from visiting his. Nothing except plot her revenge.


	16. 76: Baby

**DISCLAIMERS: **I don't own Transformers. They just came over from Hasbro to visit and be general pains-in-the-aft. Any and all the humans in the story are mine. Rating is T for now, may go up at anytime.

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: **Well, it's certainly been a while since I updated this! Real life is a bitch for both me and my beta; kids, work, renovations, and separations will do that. Shouldn't be as long of a gap after this. The story is written, just needs editing.

This is my take on transformer twins and where they come from.

**Special thanks go out to Okami-chan for beta reading these for me!  
**

* * *

Jazz looked up from his book-pad at the sound of voices approaching the lounge. Loud, angry voices. He shook his head. When were those two going to learn to get along? Sighing, he put the book-pad down beside him and focused on the doorway. From the sound of it, he had some damage control ahead of him.

The door swished open and a large yellow frame filled it. Sunstreaker still had his back to Jazz but the hunched shoulders and tightly clenched fists told the Communicator enough. Tyrants and sane mechs ran when Sunstreaker glared at them like that.

"Face it Golden-Boy, you're stuck with me. Deal with it!" Of course, sane wasn't a word he'd ever use to describe Gwen. Maybe she hit her head a little too hard when she first met Sideswipe.

Sunstreaker snarled as he whirled around door whooshing closed behind him. He stomped over to the cupboards and started rummaging through them. Apparently Gwen got the last word.

Slamming the last door shut, Sunstreaker stalked over to the mecha-couch across from Jazz and flopped down on it. "Human guide, my rear fender," he grumbled.

Jazz watched him silently for a moment before speaking. "So… Sunstreaker? How's it going?"

Sunstreaker only grunted in reply.

Jazz continued on. It would take more than a grouchy Viper to deter him. "Still not getting along with Gwen, I see?"

Sunstreaker jumped to his feet and started pacing between the couches. "Who does she think she is anyways?" he began.

"Your assigned Guide. Lady didn't have much choice in the matter either. Captain John wasn't too nice about it." Jazz filled in with a smile.

Sunstreaker snorted. "I could care less about petty conflicts between Sideswipe's pet and other humans. Captain John is just another annoying little pest."

Jazz leaned back and considered Sunstreaker. He had gotten to know the yellow ex-gladiator fairly well while they were hiding in the underground back on Mecha Terra. He had been moody and irritable back then, until he got comfortable with everyone. Then he was just moody. This didn't seem to be Sunstreaker settling in. Jazz had noticed he tended to ignore most humans beyond not stepping on them. Except for Gwen.

As Guide to both twins, not only could Sunstreaker not ignore her but between Sideswipe and her own charming personality, it was impossible to. Jazz didn't think that was the actual problem though. Sunstreaker seemed unsettled around his guide in a way that was beyond his normal general suspiciousness.

Time to get to the bottom of this before it got further out of hand. "Alright Sunshine, fess up. What is it about Gwen that bugs you so much?"

Sunstreaker stopped pacing and narrowed his optics at Jazz. "Don't call me Sunshine," he growled.

Jazz knew Sunstreaker hated nicknames, especially 'warm and fuzzy' sounding ones, so he nodded in acknowledgement. "I'm sorry. I'll stop." No need to further tease the gladiator now that he had Sunstreaker's attention. "So what is it about Gwen that shorts your circuits?"

Sunstreaker stared at Jazz, optics narrow and calculating. The silence dragged on for several long minutes before Sunstreaker vented in frustration and flopped onto the couch beside Jazz. It creaked at the abuse.

Jazz put a compassionate hand on his shoulder. "You're going to have to talk about it sometime. Better me than Aegis or Prowl, don't you think?"

Sunstreaker looked up into Jazz's face. "She's bossy and involves herself in things that don't concern her."

Jazz leaned back and laughed. "She has to be with you two troublemakers. Especially Side. Overheard her commenting to Andre that she was thankful that you are, and I quote, 'more mature' than Sideswipe and she was very glad that you don't usually help him with setting up pranks."

Sunstreaker's optics widened a bit in surprise. "What? She told _me_ I was lucky I was so big, because if I was Andrea's size, she would have put me over her knee."

"Gwen was a little steamed when she said that. You were being a real aft," Jazz nodded in remembrance of that particular scene. "Try again. You are dancing around the question. What's the real reason?"

Sunstreaker wilted a little bit and turned his head and looked away from Jazz. The silence dragged again. Just when Jazz thought he was going to have to prompt him, Sunstreaker finally spoke. "Are we sure we want her working on the sparklings?" He spoke so softly, Jazz had to turn the gain up on his audios to hear him.

It was Jazz's turn to be surprised. He hadn't realized Sunstreaker had any interest in the new mechs that Ratchet and Perceptor were building. Being worried about them seemed out of character. "She's not going to be doing any of the major stuff, Sunstreaker. Ratchet is going to have to teach her a lot for her to do anything at all and you can be sure he and Perceptor will be watching her work very closely. It will be alright."

Sunstreaker levelled Jazz a look of complete disgust before getting up and stomping out.

Jazz blinked in surprise. "Well, that was unexpected." He sat back and considered a moment, rubbing at an audio horn. He decided to speak to Ratchet about this. Ratchet knew a surprising amount about the twins; maybe he could shed some light on Sunstreaker's behaviour.

OoOoOoOoOoO

Jazz stood just outside the entrance to the future Repair Bay. Ratchet sat at the workbench across from Perceptor. The two scientists were deep in a discussion over a schematic.

"If we up the feed rate of the mills, we should get a much better finish on the struts. We're going to have to make do with the primitive machines until we can fabricate something better." Ratchet pointed at the design before him.

Perceptor nodded. "I do have to admit that the humans are able to do some extraordinary work on even the most elderly of equipment. Touring those aerospace plants was extremely enlightening."

Ratchet nodded in agreement, looking up at Perceptor to say something else, when he finally noticed Jazz in the doorway. "Oh, Jazz, I'm sorry, didn't notice you come in. Have you been standing there long?"

"Nope, just got here." Jazz wandered over and helped himself to a seat. He tucked his legs under the chair and leaned over the schematic on the table, gazing at it with feigned interest and not a clue about what it represented.

"Can we assist you in any manner, Jazz?" Perceptor politely inquired.

"You could loan me a few tools. Couple wrenches, maybe a neural scanner."

Ratchet put his elbow on the table and leaned forward slightly, chin on one red fist. His brow ridge rose curiously. "What's on your mind, Jazz? And get to the point quickly, please. We've got a lot to get done and not a lot of time to do it in."

Jazz sighed and stared down at the diagram, not really seeing it. "Starting to get concerned about our Ray of Sunshine. He's not even attempting to get along with Gwen. Lady doesn't need the stress."

"She certainly doesn't. She was through here a few minutes ago, positively fuming. It's not good for Gwen to get worked up like that, not in her condition. You tried talking to him about it?" Ratchet sat up, face settling into his trademark frown.

"Yeah, I did. He finds her bossy and nosey, not really surprising considering the lengths she goes to keeping tabs on them." Jazz leaned back in his seat, looking at both Ratchet and Perceptor in turn. "He was also concerned about her working on the sparkling project."

Perceptor shot a surprised look over at Ratchet. "I was not aware of Sunstreaker's interest in the sparkling project. Why would he be concerned over her assisting us?"

"Don't forget Perceptor, that Sunstreaker is a twin," Ratchet admonished his colleague. "Even if he denies it, he can't help but be interested."

Perceptor's optics flickered slightly in embarrassment. "Ah yes, you are quite correct Ratchet. I did forget that detail. We'll just have to reassure him that nothing untoward will take place."

Jazz followed the exchange between the two scientists, glancing at each in turn. He frowned slightly, optic ridges crinkling. He finally broke in, completely baffled. "What does Sunny being a twin have to do with anything? Sideswipe doesn't have a problem with her."

"Aside from wanting to keep her in a box?" Ratchet blandly replied.

"Ratch, we are talking about Sunstreaker's little issue here, not Sideswipe's." Jazz gave the white and red medic an annoyed look. "You didn't answer my question."

Ratchet sighed. "No I didn't. I think I understand what's upsetting Sunstreaker but I can't really say anything. Patient confidentiality. All I can tell you is that it stems from being a twin."

"Ratchet, you could elaborate a little bit more, to aid Jazz's understanding of the situation. You aren't breaking confidentiality with a general explanation and it is plain that Sunstreaker and Sideswipe are reacting differently to her." Perceptor turned to Jazz. "Jazz, what do you know about Mecha Terran twins? In general, not our pair."

"They share a spark. They are two halves of the same person, just in two bodies," Jazz replied. He hoped Perceptor would keep what ever explanation he offered simple and not start speaking in his techno-alien-scientist tongue.

Perceptor nodded. "Yes, those are the common misconceptions. They are actually created from a spark that was split. They are part of one another but as you can see with Sideswipe and Sunstreaker, they are also individuals. If the spark survives being divided, each piece will grow and experience life and become in time, a whole spark." Perceptor amazingly enough was not only understandable; he kept the explanation short. The narrow opticked glare from Ratchet probably helped with that.

Jazz mulled that over for a moment, before he caught one turn of phrase. Perceptor couldn't be saying… "Perceptor, what exactly did you mean by 'if the spark survives being divided'?"

"Exactly what I stated, Jazz. Sparks do not divide on their own. Twins are not natural, they are the result of tampering and experimentation." With optic ridges furrowed and lips pressed into a thin line Perceptor looked Jazz in the optics as he spoke. Jazz shivered. The gentle scientist normally took joy in knowledge for its own sake. But not from this. Jazz had never seen him look so grim.

"Sweet Nexus," Jazz couldn't believe his audios. "But the Twins… Side and Sunny were gladiators…"

Ratchet interrupted Jazz's stumbling denial. "That's what they became after their creator was finished with them. You see now why Sunstreaker didn't want to talk about it?"

Jazz had to take a moment to gather up his shocked wits. His spark clenched in sorrow to think how horrible a start to life his young friends had. Looking up at Ratchet, he could see the same sorrow reflected in his optics. "Ratch, I still don't see how Gwen fits into this."

"Can't you tell?" Ratchet blinked in surprise. "Gwen is a creator. She already has one creation and has another under construction as we speak."

Jazz rubbed his audio horn, completely confused now. "Creator? Gwen? I thought she was more like me. A human controller."

"Partially. Andrea and the unborn infant are created from Gwen's body and substance, as are your Companions from you, but she and her children lack the special link Controllers and Companions share," Ratchet patiently explained. "She is more like a Creator, even if that is not entirely accurate either."

"Sunstreaker has a problem with Gwen because she is a creator?"

"And the whole organic creation process. As unnatural as his own creation was, Sunstreaker is more than a little disgusted by way humans reproduce," Perceptor added.

Jazz sighed, rubbing his optic ridges. "Sunstreaker is disgusted by just about everything on Earth."

"Reproduction seems to be a particularly sore spot with him." Ratchet agreed.

"Wonderful. We have a creating femme from the Pit teamed up with the one mech that thinks she's creepy and is glitched enough to do something about it." Jazz rubbed his face, as if trying to wipe away the frustration. "Thanks Ratch, Percy. Looks like I better go track him down and try to get this worked out. We may need a different Guide for him."

Ratchet snorted, quickly muffling Perceptor's protest with the hand he had been leaning on. "Good luck with that. The general consensus of any human that comes in here is they don't mind being a Guide as long as it isn't for that crazy yellow nightmare. Unfortunately, Gwen is stuck with him."

Shaking his head, Jazz rose to go find Sunstreaker.

OoOoOoOoOoO

One would think a large, bright yellow ex-gladiator in the middle of a hissy-fit would be easy to find. Especially in the relatively small building, made smaller by the amount of space currently under renovation.

One might find they have to revise their assumptions.

Jazz vented in frustration. Where did Sunstreaker disappear to? "He's worse to find than Mirage," he muttered.

*CLANG* *CLUNK*

Jazz flinched, startled. What the frag was that?

*CLANG* *CLUNK*

Jazz strode over to the doors to the alley and listened. The noise was coming from outside. Opening the door and peeking outside, Jazz found his quarry.

Sunstreaker stood near the far end. He slowly wound up and fired something down the length of the alley.

*CLANG* It impacted the wall over a dumpster and dropped in. *CLUNK*

Jazz watched him send a few more projectiles sailing into the dumpster. He reflected that baseball scouts would go into mourning if they ever saw Sunstreaker pitch. The yellow mech was a superb natural athlete.

Sunstreaker paused a moment before scooping up another piece from the pike at his feet. He hefted it, as if getting a feel for its irregular shape. "What do you want Jazz?" he growled before sending the piece of scrap hurtling to join the growing mound in the dumpster.

Jazz blinked, visor flashing. "How'd you know I was here?"

"Door squeaks when it opens. You don't hear it much inside but out here it's pretty noticeable." Sunstreaker glared at the pile at his feet. He pushed a couple pieces around with one foot before selecting one. He hefted it like the previous piece.

"Ah. We'll have to let Ratch know so he can fix it."

"Jazz..."

"Still trying to figure out your problem with Gwen. I remember when Sideswipe first brought her to the camp. She's feisty but not bad people, Sunstreaker." Jazz leaned on the door frame as he spoke. It creaked under his weight. Another thing to mention to Ratchet.

"Shows what you know." Sunstreaker whipped the next piece down the alley. Bits of shattered brick rained down into the dumpster.

Obviously Gwen was still a sensitive topic. "Trying to figure that out Sunstreaker. Is it because of your creator?"

Sunstreaker froze in mid-motion as he wound up for another throw. He lowered his arm and looked over his shoulder at Jazz with narrowed optics, lip curled up in a snarl.

Jazz really didn't want to upset his young friend but he had to resolve this. They were stuck on Earth and this was a really good chance for all of them to start fresh. He crossed his arms and raised an optic ridge at Sunstreaker.

"What the frag are you talking about?" Sunstreaker shot back, turning to face him. He settled into a tense defensive stance.

"Can't figure you out, so I spoke to Ratchet, hoping for some insight. Learned a few things about twins in the process. Is that why Gwen sparks you off so badly? Because she is a creator?"

"This doesn't concern you, Jazz." Sunstreaker clenched his fists and glared. "Frag. Off."

"No Sunstreaker, we are going to sit down and figure this out." Jazz approached the irate Viper. "You don't like Gwen, fine. But you are stuck with her for the time being. You have to figure out how to work with her."

"Why can't I get my own Guide? Everyone else has their own, why do Sideswipe and I have to share?" Sunstreaker crossed his arms, still glaring but looking more pouty now than threatening.

"Think that has to do with John and Gwen not hitting it off and your own charming personality. Come on Sunstreaker, let's go back inside and have a couple of cans of Ratchet's special brew." Jazz put a calming hand on the yellow shoulder. "We're trying to get you another Guide but well, you scare most humans."

Sunstreaker brushed his hand away, only slightly mollified. "So until you find another squishy with bearings, I'm stuck with the pit femme?"

"Pit femme isn't scared of you and likes your brother. She's a hard act to follow. Look, I can't help if you don't feed me some more data. You don't like her. You don't like her involved with the sparkling project. And you won't say why." Jazz didn't bother putting his hand back. Sunstreaker wouldn't be soothed.

"If you talked to Ratchet, then why the frag are you bugging me about it?" Sunstreaker seethed, optics blazing. "You already know everything."

"I spoke to Perceptor, Ratch didn't want to tell me anything. Cited patient confidentiality. Only know a few bytes of info on twins, in general. Really short on specifics."

Sunstreaker stonily stared at him. Blue optics raked across Jazz's plating as if assessing his threat level, his advantages, his every weak point.

Jazz held his ground, keeping his expression neutral. He refused to let Sunstreaker see how much this unnerved him. He may be easygoing but he still had his pride.

Completing his assessment, Sunstreaker nodded. "You want to know? Fine. Just promise me one thing. None of this will hurt Side. Nothing I say will be used against him. Ever."

Jazz had to hand it to the warrior, he hadn't been this baffled in a long time. He had no idea what Sunstreaker was referring to but he didn't hesitate in replying. "I promise. Sideswipe won't be harmed in anyway. Neither will you. You have my word on that."

Sunstreaker mulled that over a moment, before nodding. "I believe you." Then he turned and walked down the alley.

Confusion now complete, Jazz followed. They halted about halfway down, near a couple of stacks of wooden pallets. Most of the supplies and materials they had been receiving had come in on them. Sunstreaker sat on the higher of the two piles. Jazz smiled tolerantly, sitting on the other. They were about optic level with each other now. The communicator had no problem with allowing his friend whatever small gestures he needed to feel more at ease.

"I guess you know how Side and I were created now. Our creator split some poor slagger's spark and put the pieces that became us into empty frames. We were just one set among dozens."

"Dozens?" Jazz gaped at him.

Sunstreaker gave him a look. "Yes dozens. Now shut up or I won't tell you slag."

"Sorry," Jazz drew his fingers across his mouth in a sealing motion. He had seen one of the human Guides do it and made them explain the gesture to him. He was rather fond of it.

Sunstreaker ran his hand down his face, snorting in disgust. "Don't know which of you is crazier, my brother or you." He waited a moment to see if Jazz would respond.

When Jazz only made a gesture to continue, Sunstreaker sighed. "I don't know whose spark it was that got split to make us. All I know is that it wasn't a new spark Mindwipe used. That's why twins are illegal. You have to kill someone to make a set, if the spark doesn't just fizzle out instead. When we were new builds, Sides and I would get flashes and odd memories that weren't ours. Bits and pieces that were never clear and we usually forgot them pretty quickly." He shuddered, looking quickly at Jazz, as if gauging his reaction.

Jazz's tanks churned uneasily. He was starting to see why Sunstreaker was so reluctant to speak to him. And he had a bad feeling that the story was going to get worse. He kept silent, so Sunstreaker would continue speaking. This was definitely a once in a stellar eon event.

Sunstreaker nodded, as if approving Jazz's silent reactions. "We don't get them anymore. I guess they fade with time. I'm not entirely sure the motivations behind it but I do know what we were created for. Mindwipe was studying sparks, in detail." Sunstreaker paused, cycling air through his vents. He shifted on the pallets he sat on, as if settling strained components. Jazz doubted that it was sitting that made the warrior so uncomfortable.

The silence stretched on for a couple minutes. Jazz watched Sunstreaker focus on various spots in the alley; looking anywhere but at Jazz. His bearing kept shifting: defensive and tense one moment, angry and on the brink of violence the next, then young, vulnerable and betrayed for brief intervals.

"Sunstreaker," Jazz said softly.

Sunstreaker slowly looked up, optics bright and face twisting with many emotions. Amazed and appalled, Jazz could only stare. What could be upsetting Sunstreaker that badly? He wasn't sure he really wanted to know. He cautiously reached out to the troubled mech, moving slowly to give him plenty of time to refuse contact. Sunstreaker didn't move, allowing Jazz to slide an arm around his shoulders.

Jazz embraced him lightly. "Hey, Sunstreaker. Is it really that bad?" he asked, concerned.

Sunstreaker cycled some more air through his vents. "Yes Jazz, it's that bad. You were probably commissioned for your guild, built specially for a specific purpose and they taught you and cared for you from day one with no reservations. All us twins, we created for a specific purpose too. To use in spark experiments. To be used and tortured to study how our half sparks would communicate with each other. They would isolate us from each other, (which is fragging scary when you are new built) and hurt one of us. Just to see what the other would do. Some twins didn't survive that. The ones that did had to endure it again and again, as we grew older."

Jazz's pumps skipped a cycle, throwing his systems out of synch for a moment. Nexus! And he thought Hound had gone through something horrible. Sunstreaker and Sideswipe had him beat.

Sunstreaker looked up towards the sky, staring at the fluffy white clouds pass over the vivid blue. "You know, before Bluestreak stopped talking to us, he would tell Sides and me about skies like this on Mecha Terra. I've never seen them. Except for the night we escaped, the first skies I ever saw were on this planet. Were Mecha Terra's skies really so similar?"

Jazz looked into the sad, almost wistful face of the young mech. Startling, at first glance. Spark breaking. He'd never dreamed of seeing that look on Sunstreaker.

A few moments of silence passed before Jazz ventured a question. "How did you end of in the Arena? I won't ask how you got to be champion. Anyone can tell you are just naturally awesome."

Sunstreaker raised a wry optic ridge at him and then he chuckled, mood lifting. "Flattery will get you nowhere Jazz."

Jazz could do nothing but smile back. From the tilt of his head and the twinkle in his optic, Jazz could see Sunstreaker basking in the praise.

"To answer your question Jazz, Sides and I were sold to that slagger who was our 'master' when we finally got so good at blocking each other that we were useless for the experiments. The rest you can figure out." The yellow warrior turned and looked up at Jazz, eyeing him critically. "Now, honour your oath. None of this gets used against Sides."

"I don't get it Sunstreaker. Why do you think any of this would be used against you?"

Sunstreaker took a turn at looking baffled. "Because we killed that mech. The one whose spark was split," he replied uncertainly.

Jazz turned to face him, visor bright and gripped the yellow shoulder. "Sunstreaker," he began softly. "That wasn't your fault. You didn't ask to be created and certainly not into a situation like that." No wonder the young mech had trust issues.

"You don't have to humour me just because we are on another planet Jazz."

Jazz struggled to keep calm. If he ever got back to Mecha Terra, he was going to be hunting down a couple of slaggers. "I'm not humouring you. Who told you that it was your fault? Your creator? The slagger that bought you? After all the scrap they put you through, you believe them on this?" Jazz managed to keep from shaking in rage but under his words, his vocalizer stuttered with furious feedback.

"And I'm supposed to take your word for this instead?"

"Sunstreaker, if you don't want to take my word, then take Aegis' word. Or Ratchet's. You know they won't lie to you."

"Ratchet gets all mad whenever this brought up. Always looks like he's ready to blow his stack."

Jazz gripped both the gladiator's shoulders. "Sunstreaker, look at me." Looking down at him, Jazz realized how young he looked, how vulnerable. Even as Sunstreaker glared back and looked like he would jump on Jazz any moment now to fight his way free. "I've known Ratchet a very long time. He helped me save Hound and hide him for all those vorn. I remember when he first met you two. If Ratchet is mad about it, he's mad because he couldn't save you back then, not at you. You have no idea how happy he was when you two showed up out of nowhere with Bluestreak. He had a second chance to save you and by the Nexus, nothing would stop him this time."

Sunstreaker stared up at Jazz in astonishment. "This is the same Ratchet that threw a wrench at me last week, right?"

Jazz nodded. "The very same. He'd go to the Pit and back for you and Sides. He would never hurt either of you."

"Jazz, he threw a wrench at my head," Sunstreaker patiently repeated.

"Yes he did. But it went way wide, didn't it?"

Sunstreaker looked confused. "Well, yes. Just because he has rotten aim, it doesn't mean anything significant."

"Sunstreaker, Ratch's aim is perfect. He hits what he aims for. Never bet against him playing darts." Jazz smirked.

"I'll keep that in mind." Sunstreaker pulled away from Jazz and settled back down on his pallets, watching as Jazz did the same. "So Sides and I are safe? For real? And anyone who says different has to go through Ratchet?"

"As the humans say, Bingo!" Jazz smiled at the mildly annoyed look that crossed Sunstreaker's face. "Okay, since we are already talking, what's up with you and Gwen?"

Sunstreaker sighed and looked away again. "She creeps me out. At first I thought she was just another ugly squishy, but then Ratchet gave us that talk about human reproduction. I could barely keep my coolants down. Then she brought her offspring in to meet everyone." He shook his head. "I can see why everyone thinks she's cute. A miniature version of her creator. Nexus and everyone says I'm vain! And the way Gwen treats her, always yelling, telling her what to do, making her do things she hates, punishing her. It's horrible. What does she do to her when no one else is around? And she's creating another one? Why is she keeping them? Shouldn't she have sent Andrea to the commissioning guild by now?"

Jazz fought to keep from smiling. As serious as Sunstreaker's concerns were, he couldn't help but fixate on the fact that Sunstreaker had indirectly called Andrea cute. Touching and sweet as that was, Jazz yanked his attention back to the mech's concerns.

"All right, that's a lot of ground to cover, so we'll tackle it one by one. First off, I kind of agree with you about how humans make more humans. The less I think about it the better." Jazz let himself grin as shock filled Sunstreaker's face. "Can't complain about the results. Andrea is adorable. I'd already met her, just after Ratch and I brought Gwen home. Definitely Gwen in miniature. I asked Gwen about that too. Humans can't control what their offspring will look like. Andrea's appearance is just luck of the draw. She could have been born looking like Brad or some other relative."

"So she's not vain?"

"Not especially." Jazz shifted on his pallets. Wood slats were just not comfortable seating.

"What about how mean she is to Andrea?" Sunstreaker growled. "Nexus, sometimes she reminds me of my creator."

"I've never met your creator Sunstreaker but I don't think that's fair to Gwen. She created Andrea to have an offspring to love, not do experiments on."

Sunstreaker huffed, optics bright with disbelief.

"Enough of that, I'm not finished," Jazz admonished the warrior. "Gwen is more like Ratchet, maybe with a couple dashes of Prowl tossed in. She treats Andrea much the same way Ratchet treats Bluestreak, Sideswipe and you. Has Hound ever thanked you for that? Before you three showed up on Ratch's doorstep, Hound got the pseudo-creation treatment. He's happy he's been allowed to finally graduate to full grown mech again."

Sunstreaker stared at Jazz, mouth opening as if to say something, then closing without a sound. It took three repetitions of this before he could activate his vocalizer. "What the frag! What are you talking about? Pseudo-creation? Hound thanking us? Jazz, start making sense."

"Ratchet treats you and Sideswipe and Bluestreak as if you were his own built creations. He used to treat Hound the same way but it seems he's allowed him to 'grow up.'" Jazz spoke slowly, amused by Sunstreaker's expression; he looked like Prowl on the edge of a particularly bad logic crash

Sunstreaker mulled that data over for a few moments. He looked so intense, Jazz would not have been surprised to see smoke coming out of his head vents. He finally looked up into Jazz's visor. "Gwen doesn't throw tools at Andrea," he finally ground out.

"A point to her favour, wouldn't you say?" Jazz clapped Sunstreaker on the shoulder, happy to have gotten through to him.

"Why does she act that way towards Andrea then?"

"Why does Ratchet yell at you? Look, Sunstreaker, why don't you ask Gwen why she does certain things? And I mean ask; nicely and with the proper amount of curiosity. Coming on accusatory and strong will raise her hackles and you won't learn scrap." Jazz squeezed Sunstreaker's shoulder, still looking into his optics.

Sunstreaker nodded optics bright and steady. "I'll do that. I still don't get it about her keeping her creations instead of properly commissioning them."

"From what I can tell, humans are a little like Controllers that way, only without the Companion link. Think of them as self-commissioning. Be simpler."

"Okay, that makes sense. Thanks Jazz." With that, Sunstreaker stood, brushing dirt and splinters off his plating.

"Anytime. What are you up to now?"

"I'm going to go find Gwen of course."

"And apologize to her? Good idea."

"Apologize to her? For what? It's not my fault she's a little glitch. No, I'm going ask her a few things." Sunstreaker held up his hands before Jazz could speak. "I'll be nice. Probably blow her CPU out." He shrugged. "See you later Jazz." Sunstreaker turned and headed back inside.

Jazz shook his head quietly, chuckling. Some mechs would never change.

**- 13 -**

**DISCLAIMERS:** I don't own Transformers. They just came over from Hasbro to visit and be general pains-in-the-aft. Any and all the humans in the story are mine. Rating is K+ for now, may go up at anytime.

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:** These stories are character sketches I started writing to get a feel for the characters in a role playing game I was going to create. Well the game never got written and the stories have evolved a life of their own. This one I used as an entry for the Jealousy and Lovers Challenge on the Flesh_and_Steel LJ comm. Didn't win but came in a close second.

This one takes place far in the future of my story world. Gwen is divorced and on an indefinite stress leave. Sideswipe has been shrunk to "human size" for babysitting. The shrink effect takes about 24 hours to wear off.  
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	17. 44: Stuck

**DISCLAIMERS: **I don't own Transformers. They just came over from Hasbro to visit and be general pains-in-the-aft. Any and all the humans in the story are mine. Rating is T for now, may go up at anytime.

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: **This one I'm blaming on my beta reader (you know who you are wolf!). A bit lighter than the usual fare for Previous Encounters. Prowl/OC.

* * *

**PE - 44 – Stuck**

Aegis cursed. He cursed the designer of his desk, the Animech that spawned him, the slagger that commissioned him and the fragging moron of a guild brother that had bought it for his office. But mostly he cursed himself for somehow getting his propeller blades wedged in the lip of the decorative trim, making it impossible to back out. Glancing down, he supposed he should add the datapad in his hand to the list; after all, it was the reason he was stuck.

He had dropped it and it had bounced under the desk, necessitating him climbing under the desk after it. It would be funny if it weren't so embarrassing.

And the worst part of it all, his assistant was due in any at moment. The thought of being caught in this position by the young mech churned his fuel tanks. Maybe one of his guild brothers would stop by first…

"Aegis? Sir?" No such luck. Prowl's soft voice drifted from above.

Aegis groaned. He liked to present a professional, dignified face to the world and being stuck like this was quite the opposite. Bad enough any of his brothers, who would tease him for vorn, found him but for the young initiate he was assigned to mentor? Well, might as well get it over with. "Under here, Prowl."

"Sir?" Prowl sounded perplexed as he came around the desk, his footsteps quiet even on the metallic flooring. "Oh, I see. How long have you been stuck like that, sir?" Aegis supposed he should thank the Generator Prowl had always been practical and straight forward. It saved time and a little of his dignity.

"Fortunately, not very long," Aegis sighed. Perhaps he should be grateful that it was Prowl that found him; anyone else would be laughing their aft off.

Prowl was silent for a long moment, his footsteps still barely audible as he moved around Aegis, apparently examining the problem from all angles. Only the soft breeze as it played over Aegis' rotor sensors let Aegis know what Prowl was doing. So it wasn't a complete surprise when Prowl lay his right hand lightly on Aegis' aft as he crouched down to get a closer look.

Aegis' optics opened wide at the gentle touch. He knew Prowl was just balancing himself but it sent delightful tingles up his spinal assembly. Why, why did he have to get the assistant that was not only brilliant but attractive as well?

"I'll be able to get you out, but I will have to bend your rotors a bit. Or summon Maintenance to unbolt the desk from the floor." Prowl's voice drifted in from Aegis' left side.

Aegis mentally shuddered at the thought of Maintenance coming to his rescue. He'd never live it down. "You can bend my rotors. Just please be careful, they contain most of my sensor arrays for flight."

Prowl hadn't removed his very distracting hand yet. "Are you sure, sir? Maintenance can be up here quickly and get you out without causing pain to your person." Prowl rose, pressing down on Aegis' aft briefly.

Aegis suppressed the gasp at the unexpected pleasurable feeling from Prowl pressing down on that one spot and almost told him to put his hand back there. He cycled some air through his cooling system then spoke. "I'll take a little pain to my person versus the permanent pain that Maintenance will give me if you call them. And stop calling me sir all the time. I've told you before to call me Aegis."

"Alright, Aegis, if you insist." Prowl reached under the desk and lightly took Aegis's rotor in hand. He ran his fingers over the smooth metal, trying to find the best place to bend it to the side.

Aegis had to disable his vocalizer temporarily to keep from making an involuntary and embarrassing noise. His entire rotor assembly tingled from those light touches and his sensor net came fully online. He started drawing air slowly and steadily into his cooling intakes, trying to keep his systems from ramping up. A couple of soft creaks startled him into blinking his optics back online. He hadn't realized that he had shut them down. Another creak drew Aegis' gaze. He was gripping the datapad a little too hard.

Aegis put it down onto the floor, before he damaged it. Unfortunately, that didn't give him anything to hold onto while his rotor blade was bent.

"Aegis, sir? I'm going to attempt to free you now. Please tell me if you are in too much discomfort." Prowl's soft voice drifted from close beside him, hands still lightly gripping his rotor blade.

"Go ahead. I'll be alright." Aegis disabled his vocalizer and curled his hands into fists, bracing himself for the pain to come. It was going to be bad.

Sharp pain lanced up his entire back assembly. Aegis screamed silently. His optics flickered madly and he would have collapsed if he hadn't already been crouched on the floor. His cooling systems went into overdrive, trying to compensate for the overwhelming stimulus.

Then it was over and Prowl was gently helping him back into his seat. "Aegis? Sir? Are you alright? Do I need to fetch the medic? I apologize for causing you so much pain."

"It's alright Prowl, I'm fine. Give me a moment to recalibrate." Aegis did a quick restart on his systems, one by one, resetting everything to baseline.

He left his optics for last. When he activated them, he discovered Prowl leaning over him, white hands lightly holding his shoulders to prevent him from pitching over.

"Are you alright, Aegis?" Prowl asked again, concern lacing his normally neutral tone.

"Yes Prowl, I'm fine. Diagnostics are coming up clean. Thank you," Aegis smiled his gratitude at his assistant as he reached up and gently took Prowl's hands from his shoulders.

And found himself reluctant to release them.

Prowl first glanced down at his hands, held by Aegis, then up into Aegis' optics. He tilted his head and raised an optic ridge, a half smile playing over his mouth as he watched Aegis, seemingly content to leave the initiative with his commander.

Aegis tugged on Prowl's hands, gently pulling the white mech to straddle his lap and press their chest plating together. He could feel the thrum of Prowl's Nexus generator, every cycle moving it closer in sync with his own. He started stroking Prowl's hands, quickly falling into sync with their Nexus generators.

Prowl sighed softly and leaned more fully against Aegis, optics closing, Nexus generators thrumming in complete synchronization. Aegis continued his caresses, stroking sensors and massaging joints, each touch drawing a soft moan.

Aegis worked his way slowly down to Prowl's wrists. He started lightly rubbing the covers to the young mech's access ports and interface connectors, pulling shuddering ventilations and soft staticky moans from him. He drew some shaky ventilations himself as he watched Prowl's access port covers iris open, one by one. The covers over his interface connectors spiraled open as well, the exposed cabling twitching in anticipation.

What the frag was he doing?!

With an effort of will, he forced his connector covers closed and released Prowl's hands. He gently pushed the white mech off his lap and back to his feet.

"Aegis? What's wrong?" Prowl blinked at him.

Aegis couldn't look at him. "My apologies Prowl. I was out of line. Thank you for assisting me. I really should get back to…" He put his face in his palm.

He didn't. He couldn't have. He did. "Slag." The fragging pad was still under his desk.

"Aegis." Aegis finally looked up at the mech still standing in front of him.

Prowl stood where he had when Aegis dislodged him off his lap. "Have I done something wrong?" he asked quietly, gazing at Aegis with wide, hurt optics.

Aegis silently cursed himself. It was easy to forget how young Prowl actually was. And he had to go off like a lust charged fool! Aegis knew that many Guardians had 'relationships' with their assistants but he had sworn that he wouldn't take advantage of a young mech like that. Especially Prowl. He'd come to care for his assistant a great deal in the short time they'd worked together. Prowl never spoke much about his life before coming to the Guild, but Aegis could guess. The life of an unaligned mech was not a pleasant one. "I'm the one that is in the wrong, Prowl. I should have better control of myself."

"So you do find me attractive. I surmised as much but wasn't completely sure." Prowl tilted his head thoughtfully, some of the hurt leaving his optics.

Aegis blinked, surprised at his assistant's direct manner and phrasing. Nexus, how did he get into messes like this? No graceful way to even deny it. "Yes Prowl, I find you very attractive. But that's not an excuse to take advantage of you. I'll understand if you want to transfer to another mentor."

"Transfer? Take advantage of me?" Prowl chuckled, amusement chasing the last of the hurt away. The white mech stepped forward and tenderly cupped Aegis' face. "Aegis, you are even more gallant and honorable than your reputation paints you. Why would I transfer when I pulled out every stop to get assigned as your assistant?" Prowl slid his hands down Aegis' chest plates, teasing seams and stroking ridges until he reached the helicopter mech's wrists. "And how can you take advantage of me when I want you just as badly?"

"Prowl…"

"I'm not an innocent Aegis. You know that. Especially the way we first met," Prowl smiled.

"Yes I remember. But-," Aegis began but a white finger placed on his mouth stopped him.

"No buts." Prowl removed his finger and caught Aegis' wrist again. White thumbs ran caressingly over the closed port covers. "We have a busy day ahead of us. We shouldn't delay any longer." The double meaning of the statement purred into his audio receptors sent shivers down Aegis' spinal assembly.

Aegis grasped Prowl's hands, port covers opening again. He looked into Prowl's optics, seeing the desire and amusement that once was hidden beneath the quiet competence and cool logic. The desire that matched his own hidden longings. "We should get started then." Two could play with double meanings. "But…"

"But what? Surely you don't still have reservations?" Prowl narrowed his optics in annoyance. Aegis stifled his chuckle. Prowl looked cute when he was frustrated.

"The data pad is still under the desk."

Prowl stared at him in open astonishment for a moment, then started to laugh.


End file.
